


Whenever, Wherever

by kabigon



Series: Threads [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Future Fic, Happy Ending(s), M/M, Minor Character Death, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Unconventional Relationship, by sheer force of Yuzuru's will and determination, one original character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23581510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kabigon/pseuds/kabigon
Summary: One full year to the exact date and it still feels unreal sometimes when he wakes up in the morning.  It’s like for a moment he gets to forget, and then when he remembers again it’s like having the ground drop beneath him all over again.
Relationships: Javier Fernández/Yuzuru Hanyu, Nathan Chen/Shoma Uno
Series: Threads [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717336
Comments: 34
Kudos: 65





	Whenever, Wherever

**Author's Note:**

> I have to say that this fic kind of took a life of it's own and I was often lamenting about how the story just would not end. And then once it was done I was debating whether or not to actually post it. I was very concerned about the perception of the story, and so I hope that everyone who reads this story understand that this is only a work of highly fictionalized events and improbable circumstances.

\----

One full year to the exact date and it still feels unreal sometimes when he wakes up in the morning. It’s like for a moment he gets to forget, and then when he remembers again it’s like having the ground drop beneath him all over again. Even now, there’s still a black hole gaping in his chest. It isn’t as all-consuming as it used to be, like the first few weeks after Brian had called to tell him the news before it hit the press, his voice breaking on the other end of the line like it was hitting him all over again. This black hole of nothingness imploded into life then, sucking all air and thought away in an instant, the memory of almost collapsing still vivid. And then as time slipped by it sucked everything else away too. Joy. Peace. Love. It ate anything it could until he was nothing but a husk of a person.

Marina was right to leave. She had tried but months after she had sat him down, defeat written all over her -- the pinch of her brows, the slump in her shoulders, the dark circles under her eyes, the dull, unkempt hair -- and told him, “I love you, Javi, but I can’t do this anymore.”

He didn’t have it in him to stop her. Or tell her he’ll change; he’ll try, he really will! Or that he loves her too. Maybe she was looking for that even if they were empty words. Something at least after all the nothingness he’d given her those last few months.

She was right to leave. If he couldn’t even offer empty promises to her then she deserved a lot more than him.

A few rows up a family, a husband and his wife, baby in her arms, clamors to a stop. The husband sets down flowers, food, lights incense, and then pours water over the gravestone. The baby eyes him non-stop and out of habit Javi waves back. Morning turns to mid-day, the sun bright and hot, sky cloudless, and when the wind whistles and the leaves rustle he decides it’s time to go before Yumi gets there to start her own set of rituals, to do her own mourning. Eyes wet he presses fingers to his lips -- a quick kiss -- and plants it on Yuzuru’s gravestone to say goodbye.

\----

Year two and it isn’t any easier but he’s gotten better at pretending. He hasn’t moved on, not really. Not at all. But Brian had set him straight. Brian seems to be the one who sets him right every time he goes awry. He doesn’t know how he’ll ever be able to thank Brian and Tracy for everything they’ve done for him. They gave him things to distract himself with, things that let him live again with the hole he expects to have until he dies.

He’s still trying through. There’s no harm in trying. Or so his therapist keeps telling him. Another suggestion from Brian worried about his mental and emotional health on top of everything else as well.

He’s going on a date later in the week once he gets back to Canada. She’s beautiful. Angular. Sharp lines. Warm smile that lights up her whole face. Nothing like Yuzuru who had been all muscle and yet rounded, soft. Pretty, especially when he tucked his hair behind his ear. And when he did it shyly Javi had wanted to trace the movement with his own fingers too. And his smile lit up his whole face, changed him from cool ice Disney prince into coquettish cat.

“You have a type,” Yuzuru had told him after he started dating Marina.

If Yuzuru were still alive he might be married to Marina now. Or maybe not. Maybe he would have spent another few years fooling himself with someone else, probably until Yuzuru was ready. Yuzuru was still so young and so was he and-

It always felt like they had so much time left to figure things out later. The rest of their lives. And now there’s nothing. Not even the memory of an ill-taken kiss to haunt him.

“Maybe you were the exception,” he muses out loud. Or maybe not. It’s not like he really saw anyone else when Yuzuru was near. Miki used to complain about it when they would all do ice shows together.

“I’m coaching now,” he tells Yuzuru. “With Brian and Tracy at the Cricket Club. I didn’t think I would leave Spain again but I need experience. Training too.” And he was scared, he doesn’t say, but Yuzuru wouldn’t have needed to be told that anyway. He’s not ready to strike out on his own. Everyone, Yuzuru especially, had believed in him more than he ever believed in himself and now still, Brian and Tracy too. He thinks he can be a good coach to someone someday but Tracey never not shakes her head at this.

“You’re going to be a _great_ coach to a lot of someones someday.” Eternally in mom mode, he had thought then but he had been glad to hear her words all the same, needed them actually.

“I only help with Evgenia and Junhwan but the little ones are all mine,” he continues, smiling from the thought of them. They’re the best part of Javi’s week. They come to class each week with bright smiles on their faces teeming with excitement before Javi even lets them on the ice, and he’s so proud of them. Every time they fall and they get up to keep skating he feels proud of them. “You would have loved them too.”

A sudden yelp of surprise jerks him back to his surroundings, and he looks up in time to see a kid, one, maybe two years old if he’s small for his age, toddling towards him as quickly as his unstable legs can carry him, leaving his parents behind. They look like the same family from the year before, he muses as tiny baby arms tangle around his legs.

“Hey buddy,” he says as he reaches down to pat the child on the head. “What are you doing, huh?”

The child gurgles happily at Javi, peering up at him with a toothy grin.

“It’s okay,” he says to the mother in heavily accented Japanese to reassure her there’s been no harm done when she starts apologizing profusely.

He picks the child up carefully and the delighted expression he gets for that lifts his mood. The delight morphs into confusion though when Javi hands him back to his mother, and then full blown tears, a tantrum, come. She carefully wipes his cheeks to brush the tears away.

“Thank you,” she says to him sincerely and with a bow she leaves, whispering soothing words to the console the child she cradles in her arms.

It’s kind of beautiful, he thought. Maybe he’ll have that someday too. If he can ever get his shit together, that is.

Already it’s time to go. He plants a kiss on Yuzuru’s gravestone with his fingers and tells him, “I’ll see you next year,” before he leaves for another year.

\----

Another year has passed and he’s thirty-three. Time flies like it’s nothing and yet his days are slow as molasses.

“I used to think I’d be married by now,” he confesses. “I thought, ‘Thirty is so old!’ and look at me now. Thirty-three and single. My mom is crying a little. She says she wants little Javis running around soon but I don’t know…”

He doesn’t say that his love life isn’t going particularly well. A few dates here and there. With women. And a man too just for the hell of it. Just to try, and finding out it wasn’t half bad. It’d been great actually, different. He’ll probably sleep with another one again if he’s in the mood. Getting dates isn’t the problem. Getting dates has never been the problem if he’s honest, remembers how Yuzuru tilted his head perplexed when he and Miki had started dating after his relationship with Cortney had barely ended and asked, “Javi, are you playboy?” He had insisted he wasn’t -- he _isn’t_ \--but Yuzuru hadn’t quite believed him if the side-eye as he skated away was any indication.

No, the problem was wanting to stay after, and he never quite got there with any of them.

“They’re nice people,” Laura had admonished after yet another about to turn serious relationship ended. “And they’d be good for you.”

And maybe. But he doesn’t want just _good._ He wants-

Well, if he’s honest he wants Yuzuru Hanyu. Standing there, facing it head on he realizes he’s given up on finding love and strangely he’s okay with it.

“I still have my kids at the Cricket Club,” he says. “Still with Brian and Tracy. Can you believe they trust me alone with the juniors?” Yuzuru would have laughed at that. Him and Nam, they were always too good at distracting each other, so much so that Brian’s face had turned red on more than a few occasions.

“I even got to go to competition. It’s so weird to be on the other side, Yuzu. At least competing you only focus on skating. No room for anything else. You know this. But when you’re the coach it’s like… you don’t skate but everything else is on you. There’s a million things flying at you all at once. I don’t think I breathed during the programs either. Every moment it’s like I was out there but I couldn’t help at all. And when they fall. It’s so terrible Yuzu. It’s like you fall with them too. But there had been triumphant joy too, when Kevin finished top five at junior nationals, especially since none of them had expected it. Hoped, yes, always, but it’d been Kevin’s first year in competition. The rush of joy when the final standings were released paled in comparison only to winning his Olympic Medal. And beating Yuzuru. Nothing beats the rush he got when he beat Yuzuru.

“Jabi!” he hears as it pierces through the quiet, and he’s taken aback by the happiness laced in his name. He sees a boy, no, _the same boy_ from the year before running towards him. _Again._

“Yuzu!” follows not far behind, a mother admonishing her child for his lack of manners.

What a weird twist. Three years in a row now. What are the odds they keep meeting like this?

“Yuzu?” he asks the boy below him and the boy nods, grinning at him.

“Yuzu!” he exclaims, confirming his name. Arms stretch up at him asking silently to be lifted so he squats down without much thought, picking the child -- Yuzu -- up, warm arms snaking around his neck happily to give him a hug.

“So sorry,” his mother says in accented English. “We figure skating fans,” she continues by way of explanation. “Sometimes we watch old clips. He likes Fernandez-san best.”

“Ah,” he says to fill in the space. “His name is Yuzu? For-”

“Yes,” she says, a blush forming high on her cheeks. For Yuzuru. He-”

“-was your favorite,” Javi finishes for her, a faint smile making it to his lips. It’s nice to know other people still remember him too.

“Yes,” she repeats, and then, “Sorry to bother. We leave you alone now.” And then Japanese, spoken to the Yuzuru in his arms, and though he can’t understand he gathers it’s something along the lines of _Yuzu, let the poor man go._

Yuzuru burrows deeper into his arms, clings tighter and emphatically, “No.”

_“Yuzu,”_ her voice hard and stern in the tone he's only ever heard mothers perfect.

Louder, more frantically, “No!”

Her mouth twists into a frown. She bows her head in silent apology before stepping in close, invading a bit of his space to pry her child away. When her hands lock on Yuzu’s waist Javi feels Yuzu tighten his hold, tiny little fingers gripping harder. “So sorry,” she says over and over again, flustered and embarrassed until finally, inevitably, Yuzu loses to his mother in the battle of strength.

“I am so sorry for this child,” she says over Yuzu openly wailing in her arms.

He starts to say it’s okay but stops, suddenly realizing he didn’t get her name. “I’m sorry, what is your name?”

“Ah! Minami,” she says. “Family name is Minami. First name is Shizuka.”

The entirety of their short exchange Yuzu hadn’t stopped trying to get back to Javi, using all the force and strength of his small body at jumping attempts, hoping that at least just one will free him and throw him into Javi’s arms.

“Jabi,” Yuzu pleads, teary-eyed, opened fingers stretching out towards him. “Jabi, te extraño.”

And that- that fucking throws him.

“He speaks spanish?” He asks incredulously. The pronunciation was kind of terrible but it’d been close enough for the words to form in his brain.

Shizuka looks as surprised as him. “Sometimes he says… what you call… ‘gibberish’? May be spanish by accident.”

He nods slowly a few times at that, accepting the offered explanation as is because what else could it be?

“We take too much time already,” Shizuka says at last.

He gives her one of his best smiles, Spanish charm included, and maybe she melts a little at that. “Have a nice rest of your day.”

She thanks him and returns his sentiments along with another bow. Javi watches her walk away, Yuzu’s little arms slung around her shoulders as he’s looking back at Javi sadly. Javi waves good-bye with a little extra cheer in his smile just for Yuzu only to see Yuzu’s lip quiver before fat tears roll down his face. Yuzu’s cries before had been loud, insistent, but now they’re only muffled tiny hiccups, defeated as he waves back at Javi.  
  
“Te extraño,” he says when he’s alone again, mulling the phrase over. _I miss you._

He remembers teaching Yuzu those words in Barcelona.

“Teach me more!” he had insisted after his short little surprise speech at the gala.

Remembering _that_ Yuzu -- baby-faced and bright eyed, naive and unjaded and filled to the brim with the desire to learn more, always _more_ \-- he can’t help the fondness blooming in his chest even now.

"I do miss you, Yuzu." A confession that would surprise exactly no one. After planting a quick kiss on Yuzuru’s gravestone he leaves, carrying the feeling of that memory with him for the rest of the day. It's nice sometimes to remember the good things.

\----

Year four and he decides, quite last minute, to change things up a little. A little change never hurt anyone. He could grab a nice lunch in the restaurant below his hotel and then head out later in the day when the sun isn’t so high anymore. By then hopefully the heat breaks. After all these years, after all the different shows and all the times he’s visited he’s never gotten used to Japan’s humidity in the summer months. Some days when the conditions are just all _wrong_ it feels like it’s suffocating him.

Javi hears it as soon as he gets near Yuzuru’s grave, the sniffling, the tiny little hiccups, and the soft quiet, motherly sounds. He knows before he can see properly and approaches as gently as he can, settling into a squatting position even if his knees twinge slightly in protest, and nodding in Shizuka’s in greeting.

“Hey buddy,” he begins quietly. “Why are you crying?”

Yuzu’s head jerks up, no more hiccups, no more sniffling, only wet, red eyes left. His bottom lip quivers, more tears fill his lash line, and then they fall when they reach full capacity. Faster than his mother or Javi can blink Yuzu throws his small body into Javi’s arms, sobbing his little heart out.

“What happened?” he asks, alarmed and distressed by the emotional intensity he feels in Yuzu’s cries.

Shizuka sighs before answering but even then he sees the concern on her face. “We wait for you. Yuzu says he see you one day a year, and he make us wait. But time get later and later and you don’t come. I tell him you are very busy person but now he think you don’t like him.”

“Oh, Yuzu,” he says, patting him on the back gently to soothe him. “Of course I like you,” he says in broken, half-rmembered Japanese from his days with Miki and Himawari.

The sobs soften then but Yuzu won’t look at him, won’t stop clinging long enough to do so.

“I stay with you,” he says. “As long as you want.”

_“Yakusoku.” Promise._ With all the insistence of a child.

_“Yakusoku,”_ he repeats back because of course he does.

He holds idle chat with Shizuka -- the weather, family, jobs, who her favorite skaters are now. Shoma Uno, of course, and-

“Nathan Chen?” he mock gasps at her. “You traitor.”

She laughs along with him. “No! Am just adult enough to know liking Nathan too is okay.”

It’s nice, pleasant. Lighthearted. But she’s getting tired too. He can see it in the circles under her eyes. It must have been quite a day for her, and the heat probably did not help one bit. Every time she makes to reach for Yuzu he flinches away, eyes watering as he breathes harshly, nose flaring, until she backs away.

She’s a little sad, Javi thinks. It must feel like rejection to have her own child choose someone else over her.

_Finally,_ when Yuzu falls into an exhausted sleep still curled around Javi, Shizuka lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” she says genuinely. “Yuzu is sometimes hard child to understand.”

“Maybe people named ‘Yuzuru’ are just hard to understand,” he offers back. “Yuzuru Hanyu certainly was an enigma.” They share a short laugh at that because he certainly was, wasn’t he? Right until the very end. “You look tired.”

“Yes,” she admits. “Long day. I think we go home now.”

“Take care. Make sure you get some rest”  
  
“Fernandez-san too.”

“Well,” he says to Yuzuru when he’s alone. _“That_ was certainly something. He reminds me of you a bit.” A laugh. “So much crying.”

\----

This year he thinks it’s better to not chance it. Seems fate insists on a Yuzuru in his life no matter what. He comes a little earlier so he can tell Yuzuru:

_I’m going back to Spain._

And-

_I’m opening my own club._

And-

_I think I’m ready, and so do Brian and Tracy. I could never thank them enough. They changed my life, you know? You did too._

And-

_You wanted to be a coach too but I think I could have convinced you to be my choreographer. It’s less prestigious and glamourous, I admit, but you did always love the drama. You would have been great._

He says all he wants to say with many I miss you’s said and unsaid. There’s only peace and quiet after that and he revels in it because he doesn’t expect it to stay too long.

Sure enough not too long after he hears the rustling of feet on grass and an excited “Jaaaaviiiii~!” that sets him afloat.

He squats down waiting, open and ready to accept an incoming Yuzu, spotting Shizuka a little ways off. He thought she might follow but she only bows slightly in greeting, choosing instead to tend to her mother’s gravestone.

When they connect, the sheer force of Yuzu’s momentum and excitement is nearly enough to knock him down. He wheezes out extra hard for show and gets a giggle for his effort.

In Japanese, _“So tall!”_ He had tried learning Japanese a little but he's so set in his ways the learning, or trying to at least, and been intermittent at best.

Yuzu nods proudly. "Ten centimeters!”

“English?”

Another nod, this one gleeful. _“Okaa-san_ teach me.”

“Oooh. You’re so smart Yuzu.”

“I still hate English but have to.” His whole face turns into a scowl and it's adorable. “For Javi.”

“For me?”

“So can talk with Javi. And skating.”

“Did you start skating this year, Yuzu?”

Yuzu’s whole face lights up. “Yes! Most young but best!”

“Maybe I’ll come see you skate one day, hmm?”

“Really?!” and then before he has time to answer, “Yes! Javi must come! I wish… I wish,” a falter, Yuzu suddenly shy, “I wish I see Javi more.”  
  
“Me too,” he says and is surprised to find he isn’t lying. “But I live in Spain and Spain is really, really, really far away.”

“Really far,” Yuzu echoes and for a moment he seems older than he is, like he really gets that Spain isn't just something like an eight hour bullet train ride away. “I follow Javi. Where Javi is, I go.”

If these words had come from _his_ Yuzuru maybe Javi would have believed him. Made those Olympic gold medals happen, didn’t he? But this Yuzu doesn’t know any better. Two, three years down the line he’s only going to remember Javi as that weird, old foreigner he kept seeing in the cemetery who he’d been strangely attached to. There’s no harm in it, he thinks. Soon he’ll be nothing more than a memory so he chuckles, ruffling Yuzu’s hair, and plays along.

“Okay. I’ll wait for you in Spain.”

There’s a defiant fire in Yuzu’s eyes like he knows Javi isn’t taking him seriously and he’s determined to prove Javi wrong. So similar to Yuzuru, he can’t help noting. Yuzu raises a pinky at him. “Promise. You have to wait for me Javi. Because I marry you.”

That chokes a laugh right out of his chest. Yuzu is what, four, five years old? He probably doesn’t even know what marrying someone actually means.

He curls his pinky around Yuzu’s. “I promise,” he says sagely.

Yuzu nods, satisfied. “We don’t break promises.”

“We do not,” Javi confirms.

\----

When Yuzu is ten Javi helps oversee a camp in Japan at Shoma’s request. Shoma, now retired, had prematurely said okay to holding a camp for his previous club only to call Javi a week later with his face as white as a sheet and begged Javi (as much as his pride could let him) to please help because there are going to be _children_ and what did he know about adults much less _children._

Javi had laughed at him even as Shoma had pleaded. “I not made to be coach!”

“No,” Javi agreed after his laughter had died down. “My friend, you are much more maybe… a judge.”

The first day Yuzu is bright eyed and bushy tailed greeting him at the door even though Javi made sure to set three different alarms as insurance to get there first. He shouldn’t have even been surprised to see Yuzu attending the camp. Back then he’d thought maybe two, three years and he’d be a distant memory but year after year Yuzu had come as bright eyed and bushy tailed as he is now, filled with excitement at finally seeing Javi again.

“Hello Yuzu,” he says, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“Good morning Javi,” he says cheerfully.

“Where’s your mom?”

“Javi,” he glowers, “I am ten years old.”

“Ooooh,” he coos, “the ripe old age of ten years old. Yuzu, you are so grown up now.”

“I not stay child forever, Javi,” he says. “We promised. When I am older, we get married.”

That part is a little worrying, he admits but he suspects it’s only a matter of time Yuzu drops it all entirely. It’s a nice distraction though, played for jokes when Laura or Sara tries to set him up on dates, sure to get them riled up.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Completely, Laura. If I get married that boy may never forgive me. We don’t break pinky swears.”

Laura had groaned, shouting, “Mamá, come knock some sense in your son!” only to be answered with, “I already gave up on baby Javis a long time ago!”

Javi had found out there first team planning session that when Shoma asked him to help what he _really_ meant was he wanted Javi to take charge of everything right down to telling him exactly what he needed to do. Seeing Shoma mixed in with the group of children not much smaller than him brings back memories. Shoma had been so young when they first met, nothing but a seventeen year old chubby cheeked boy unable to escape their torment, his and Yuzuru’s because he was just too cute. How could you resist pinching those cheeks? Why wouldn’t they? But they doted on him too.

The cheeks disappeared some time ago leaving behind only a chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. Handsome. No longer a boy, but Javi suspects he is nowhere close to functioning like an adult.

Shoma skids to a halt next to him once the kids start their stroking exercises.

Apropos nothing, he tells Javi, “He’s good.”

Evenly, he asks, “Which one?”

“Yours,” Shoma says. “The possessive one. Minami.”

“Ah,” he says. “I had hoped no one picked up on that.”

Shoma levels him with an unimpressed stare. “Javi, he glare at everyone near you. I have to be blind not see.”

Javi sighs. “Yeah,” he concedes. “I need to talk to him about that.”

“Better early, yes? Javi comes for everyone, not just him.”

He pulls Yuzu aside later when they’re all working individually on their jumps.

“I want to share Javi, honest!” He insists. “Javi is good coach so only makes sense but… I don’t know. Head says is okay but heart says no.”

Yuzu shrinks from guilt at Javi’s tired sigh and he hates that, hates that he didn’t stop himself before the sigh escaped because as a coach, even if for a short camp, he only wants to leave positive memories.

“I’m not mad,” he reassures. “But sometimes head trumps heart, okay?”

Yuzu nods. “I’m sorry,” he says meekly.

“Hey,” he says, placing an encouraging hand on Yuzu’s neck. “We all mess up. It’s how we move forward that matters.” 

Finally Yuzu relaxes, expelling out a sigh. “Thank you, Javi.”

“You’re welcome. You’re really good at skating, you know? I hope you continue.”

Yuzu lights up. “Yes! I love skating so much! Skating is my whole life!”

Javi laughs at the eerily familiar words to the one he’s named after. “What’s your favorite jump?”

“Axel! Axel is like old friend.”

“Your axel looks good. Let’s go work on your lutz, okay? I think that’s the one you need to work on most.”

Yuzu groans. “I love lutz but lutz never love me back.”

The relief he sees on Shoma’s face when he returns is enough to draw a laugh from him. “Shoma-kun,” he teases. “You look ready to be in charge.” His entire face promises mayhem if he’s left alone.

“He reminds me of Yuzuru,” Shoma says quietly after the class while they’re writing notes into all the students’ files. “Skating style,” he tacks on just in case Javi is confused. “When small. Chaotic. He want do too much.”

He nods in understanding. “I think because he saw a lot of Yuzuru’s skates. His mom is a fan. He’ll grow into his own.”

Shoma nods slowly at that, contemplative, but he doesn’t say anything more so Javi leaves it alone.

\----

It’s a novice event and Javi suspects from the organizers excessive gratitude and their initial reaction that no one actually expected him to say yes when they invited him to attend and present the medalists with their medals. When they first reached out he said he’d think about it, needed some time to check his schedule, with the intention to have his assistant follow that up a few days later with an apology. On a whim he had checked the competitors list just to see, curiosity getting the better of him, and in the end had called the organizers back to accept their invitation.

There’d been more than one or two familiar names of kids he had coached over summer camps the previous few summers, Yuzu notwithstanding. Most who came back, a few who didn’t. He’d like to see them, he thought, check on them and how they’re doing, how they’ve improved. That’s the best part of training younger kids. Nothing beats seeing them grow as skaters, as performers and artists in their own right, finding their own way and their own voice.

Some quicker than others, it seems, because Yuzu debuts his triple axel. He’s only twelve but already his axel is a thing of beauty. Back counter before the execution, nice height, deep knee bend. For a moment he misses Yuzuru terribly, an ache feathering in his chest. 

\----

Staring at that Winnie the Pooh covered tissue box resting on the boards by the side of the rink Javi slips back in time, back to Toronto and the Cricket Club skating and training and messing around with Yuzuru Hanyu until Brian got them back on track again.

He picks Pooh up lovingly, his hand smoothing over the top of Pooh’s head, locking eyes with Pooh’s unchanging gaze.

“Javi?” he hears and slips back to the present. He looks up to see Yuzu glide to a stop in front of him. His first lesson as an official student but Javi should have known he’d be here before their official start time.

He holds up the Pooh covered box. “Yours?”

Yuzu nods cautiously. 

“I never see you have this at competitions before.”

Again, Yuzu nods and explains to Javi, “Don’t want people upset. Maybe they think I try to replace someone else.”

Replace Yuzuru, he means. It’s not something Yuzu should worry about but the sad truth is that sometimes people can be vicious and all they need is an excuse. Still…

“But you like Pooh, yes?”

“Yes,” Yuzu admits shyfully. “Pooh-san’s face is always unchanging. No matter if I do good or if I do bad Pooh-san support me. Make me feel like stronger. And when I look at him I think… I think I feel calm.”

Like Yuzuru, he thinks with a sudden surge of affection feathering in his chest, taking over until he finally reaches out and ruffles Yuzu’s hair. “You should bring him to the next competition.”

Yuzu glowers at him, unimpressed. “Javi, don’t want to make people mad.”

“Be a little selfish,” he says. “Also, maybe Pooh misses being at competitions.”

Yuzu inhales sharply at that. “You think so?”

Illogically, yes, Javi does seem to think so.

When the competitions start again in the fall Yuzu will bring Pooh with him, tucked under one arm. A trusted sidekick that he will keep close wherever he goes, be it the locker room or practice and especially to the kiss&cry. Javi will watch, alert at first but will realize there’s nothing to worry about yet. He will spot a few older women, moms of other competitors he’s sure who will look at Yuzu strangely at first, contemplatively, with curiosity on their faces. But their gazes will soften and he’ll think he sees more than a few blink away a wet sheen in their eyes.

\----

The same summer Yuzu shows up at Javi’s rink unannounced, a distressed mother and a reluctant Japanese Skating Federation representative in tow, demanding to know why Javi _rejected_ coaching him before finding out the truth and then weaseling his way into being one of Javi’s students, Shoma unexpectedly drops by. It will be quite a roller coaster of a summer, he supposes, when he spots the familiar shape of Shoma by the boards, sunglasses hiding his eyes but the movement of his head giving him away as he watches the scenery in front of him intently.

“Why so much sun in Spain?” Shoma complains when Javi slides to a stop in front of him.

“Then you shouldn’t have come during summer,” Javi tosses at him. Somewhere over the span of ten years they’ve managed to become something like friends, enough so that they grab dinner whenever they’re in the same country. Or, apparently, they’re close enough to the point where Shoma gets himself onto a plane and flies from half a world away without calling first.

Shoma waves him off and Javi half spins to lean against the boards now behind him, elbows propping him up as he settles into a comfortable position.

“Why are you here, Shoma?”

A question that Shoma promptly ignores.

“How old is he now?” Shoma asks instead.

“Who?” Playing dumb but Shoma levels him with a look to say he’s not buying it. Javi sighs. “Fourteen.”

“I see.”

He feels the need to defend himself. “He just showed up one day.”

Shoma hums thoughtlessly, a non-answer.

“Japanese Federation wanted him to go to Russia. Or America. Either one. Not _Spain_ though, I think. Yuzu said I was coaching him and then the Japanese Federation said I wasn’t and I thought okay they changed Yuzu’s mind. They did not like Yuzu dragging them all the way here.”

At that Shoma’s face twisted in disgust. He doesn’t have to hide these things anymore, least of all from Javi. “I bet. Is all politics, I’m sure.” And then, “But got his way.”

“Well, from what I gathered Spain was his only choice.”

Shoma snorts. “So surprising.”

Javi ignores that. They’ve discussed this before.

“It’s not a crush,” Shoma had said. “This is more. You can tell. From eyes.”

Javi vehemently disagreed. 

“He’s probably their next big star,” he tacks on, watching Shoma track Yuzu.

Shoma nods as Yuzu does a triple axel. “Yuzu is good. He has something… special? Special. Good transitions. Good flow. And good with music.”

Over dinner later, a nice little shop around the corner from his apartment, Javi asks, “How long are you staying?”

In the middle of a bite Shoma shrugs. “Not sure,” he says around a mouthful.

“And the reason for that has nothing to do with a certain American?”

Shoma groans and sets his burger down. “So you’ve heard.”

Javi laughs and nods. “Gossip,” he confirms and Shoma groans again. “Nathan Chen? Shoma, really?”

“Stupid Americans,” he mumbles. “Can’t keep mouth shut.”

“And for years too! C’mon. What’s going on? You can tell me.”

Shoma takes a deep breath and then says, “Nothing, really.”

“You’re here,” Javi points out. “That doesn’t mean nothing.”

Another sigh from Shoma. “I hate New York City. It is loud. Smelly. Ugly. Subway is gross. All dirty. Pee smell everywhere.”

“Okay…?”

“We have fight.” He draws in a breath. “Nathan wants me move in with him.”

Javi blinks. And he blinks again. It’s a shock, and it’s like he’s finally really seeing Shoma for the first time. It’s not so much that he still saw Shoma as that seventeen-year-old boy Yuzuru had dragged him to meet. It just never sunk in that somewhere between retirement and here Shoma had gotten himself together, enough that he’s possibly moving in with his boyfriend.

“So what are you doing here?” he asks between one bite and the next.

“I told you. I hate New York City.”

“But?”

“I think,” Shoma begins dejectedly. “I think means - how they say? - make or break now.”

“Oh.”

“…Yeah.” He doesn’t say he’s trying to run away from his problems but he doesn’t need to.

“Maybe he can move to Japan?” Javi offers, and Shoma shakes his head at that.

“Nathan has hospital he works at in New York. I cannot ask Nathan to abandon for me.”

“Well,” Javi says, making a grab for his glass of beer, “then I think you already made up your mind, no?

Shoma sighs, shrugging, but later, midgame of the umpteenth round of Smash Brothers where Shoma is, once again, pommeling him, he growls out between gritted teeth, “Stupid Americans. Can’t believe leave Japan for New York City. _New York City,_ Javi.”

Javi laughs good-naturedly. “Change is good.”

“Change is scary,” Shoma spits out, combative.

“Change is scary, yes. But it’s also good.” And then, because Javi is probably the only person other than Itsuki and Nathan who can see right through him, says smugly to him, “You grumble but you look happy too.”

\----

In the morning, after Shoma wakes up on Javi’s couch, he shoots a quick text to Nathan.

_Fine._

He gets a call back immediately. It’s late there so Nathan must be on the night shift. Just his luck that Nathan’s on break, he thinks. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been on his phone. Or, at least he hoped Nathan wouldn’t have been. He hears an incredulous, “Really?” before the phone makes it to his ear.

“Yes, really,” he says, exasperated.

“It’s going to be so great! You’ll grow to love New York, Shoma. There’s so much good food here. And the random parks! And all the art and just… everything.”

And to hear the excitement in Nathan’s voice he just… he couldn’t… ruin that. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I love you, Nathan.”

“I love you, too,” Nathan replies immediately, light and airy. It’s so easy for him to say it and he does. All the time. It’s harder for Shoma but for Nathan… for Nathan he can do pretty much anything.

“You don’t have to, you know?” Nathan says timidly. “If you don’t want to. I think I’ve been pressuring you and I don’t mean to. I mean I definitely think we’re ready but if you don’t it’s cool. I can wait for you.”

Shoma shakes his head even if Nathan can’t see it. “No,” he says. “No pressure. I think we ready too.”

He hears a relieved sigh on the other end, like Nathan had been holding his breath. “Thank you.” Again, “I love you.” And then, “I gotta get back, someone's coding” and finally, “Can’t wait till you get home.”

_Home._ No matter where he went, Russia, America, Switzerland, home had always meant Japan. But now maybe home also means Nathan.

He stops by his hotel on the way to Javi’s rink to grab his skates. When he gets there he pulls them on, laces them up, and does a few laps on the ice to warm up. There aren't a lot of people there. Closed morning sessions, he thinks. Good. He gathers up speed and jumps a quad flip, bowing afterwards, a little embarrassed when Javi whoops and claps for him.

“Shoma!” Yuzu, coming from behind Javi, jumps onto the ice and glides to him delighted to see him again. “You didn’t say hi yesterday!”

Shoma. Not Uno-san. Not Uno-kun. Or Shoma-kun. Not even one _senpai._ Just Shoma. From the very beginning he’s always been “Shoma” to Yuzu.

“Guys,” Yuzu says, motioning to two younger teens behind Javi to come closer. “It’s just Shoma.”

Ah yes, just Shoma. Not two-time Olympic Silver Medalist Shoma (damn you Nathan). Or two-time world champion Shoma with a myriad of other silver medals to his name. Just Shoma. Unlike others Yuzu has always remained unimpressed by his accomplishments, instead treating him more like a friend despite their twenty-something age difference.

He tries for a warm smile but it feels awkward, and it must come off that way too if Javi looking away and stifling a laugh is anything to go by. He glares but not for longer than a second because Yuzu takes his hand and drags him out to the middle of the ice.

Javi moves to step in but Yuzu ignores him.

“C’mon Shoma. Show them your cantilever.”

In the end he does the cantilever even if his knees ached and protested and thankfully Javi doesn’t get any funny ideas about him helping coach, telling him instead, “Do whatever you want, Shoma. Just have fun.”

By the boards he chugs down a gulp full of water, then hangs back to observe the class. Javi is good at this being a coach thing. Better than a lot of the more experienced coaches he’d seen. Certainly better than Shoma would have fared. A little reminiscent of Stephane actually. There’s no yelling, for one. Unending kindness, limitless understanding, word after word of encouragement learned from Brian Orser, he’s sure. There’s disappointment for a split second because of course there is when it’s the failed umpteenth try at a quad but he never lets it linger, never lets them see because in the blink of an eye it’s gone. Instead he picks them back up with a pat on the back -- so touchy and affectionate like Stephane -- and it’s “If you’re up for it, go again. Just remember quads aren’t everything. Remember Jason? He came last summer. Jason is a very complete skater and he didn’t have any quads.”

Yuzu swipes at Javi half-heartedly when Javi teases him, glowering at him but happy, _glowing._ They’re both glowing, in fact. In those few spare moments when Yuzu isn’t intensely focused he tracks Javi wherever he goes. Discreetly, sure, and though he doesn’t quite glare anymore there’s this look in his eyes that transmit, “Javi is mine”, like he’s marking Javi to anyone who’s thinking of taking what he deems as his. They lean into each other too, when they’re close, subconsciously, like they’re inexplicably drawn together, and Javi doesn’t even notice how much he touches Yuzu anymore. Well, maybe he never noticed before either. A gentle hand on his shoulder, a palm on his neck, his cheek when he’s trying to cheer Yuzu up. These Europeans, always so physical. It’s not anything he hasn’t done for any of his other skaters but for Yuzu it’s different. _Javi_ is different. He lingers a split second too long most days, and his eyes… soft, and sweet, and caring. _Loving,_ actually, and once upon a time he had hoped that Javi would look at him the same. So long ago now and it makes him feel old. A full decade must have passed since then.

Javi doesn’t see because he’s caught up in all of it. Blinded, Shoma thinks. Or maybe he refuses to see because that would make coaching Yuzu harder.

Shoma doesn’t care too much to think about God, or gods, or deities, whether they’re real or not doesn’t really matter to him but he thinks maybe it wouldn’t hurt to pray for Javi once in a while. In a few years Yuzu is going to upend Javi’s entire world and truthfully, from where Shoma is standing, Javi is woefully ill-prepared. Javi is his friend and Shoma has the utmost respect for him but Javi can be so oblivious sometimes. Like he was with Yuzuru too. He’ll never see it coming.

When Minami Yuzuru says he’s going to marry Javi, Javi doesn’t take it too seriously. He never does. It’s just an old joke, he says time and time again. Shoma has tried repeatedly to breach this topic with Javi so that when Yuzu comes like the on-coming typhoon he is, Javi isn't plowed over but he gets nowhere. He can keep trying but he isn’t going to get anywhere because Javi isn’t willing to listen. Or, more accurately, he’s not willing to open his eyes and _see_ that it’s not just some cute story from Yuzu’s childhood they get to tell the people around them when Yuzu mentions it. They all laugh it off because they see Yuzu’s baby face, and they see his age, and they think he must be kidding. Yuzu is, in fact, very serious about Javi and has been since he was that child making Javi swear with a pinky, that Shoma has no doubt about.

When Yuzu says he’s going to marry Javi Javi doesn’t take it too seriously but he should. He really, really should because that kid is going to make it happen someday.

Now, Shoma can only maybe pray, visit a shrine or two when he’s in Japan, and hope for the best.

After a week of too much sun -- “How do you not die from sun Javi?!” -- he flies back home. Well, where home will be from then on, he guesses, once he gets his things shipped over. And they work out the visa stuff.

“Let’s just get married,” Nathan had thrown out nonchalantly in the middle of a call when he’d been hiding from the sun under a large willow tree, to which Shoma had scowled in response.

“I am _Japanese,”_ he spat out at his screen. “I have _proper_ _wedding.”_

Nathan had laughed and backed off, palms raised and showing, saying, “Okay, okay, no Vegas wedding,” to placate Shoma, but then he’d also been grinning from ear to ear. Shoma hadn’t said no, had he? That’s as good a yes as the actual word. All Nathan has to do now is actually ask.

Nathan greets him at arrivals, throwing his whole body around Shoma and enveloping him in a hug. “Missed you,” he says, kissing the top of Shoma’s head after.

It’s un-japanese but hell, he’s in America now. He lets go of his suitcases and wraps his arms around Nathan’s middle. He breathes in Nathan’s clean scent deeply. “I’m home,” he says, and is rewarded with a grin.

\----

If Javi were to get married Yuzu would view that as a betrayal and never forgive him. He can sleep around as much as he wants. He can date even as long as it’s never anything serious. As long as Javi never settles down with any of them Yuzu doesn’t care what he does with them.

He’s fifteen. _Fifteen._ So close and yet not close enough at all because in this body he wants so much. That’s one of the differences with this one. It’s so… hormonal and Javi has always been so handsome. Now, then, doesn’t seem to matter because Javi strikes his senses again and again, filling him with need and desire until he’s impatient with it, until all he wants to do is touch. He wants to touch Javi all the time now. He thinks about it, _dreams_ about it, Javi’s hand trailing down his taut stomach, Javi’s finger wrapped around him, gripping him tight with each stroke until he finishes.

But he’s fifteen. _Cursed_ _fifteen_ and Javi is noble, chivalrous, a real modern day Don Quixote. If he wanted Yuzu would give himself over in a heartbeat. It pains him to admit that Javi doesn’t, not quite yet. Yuzu can’t fully blame him either. It’s his baby face. Leftover from childhood fat. He can’t help it. He’s not a child anymore and he definitely does not feel like a child anymore but in the wrong lighting he looks like one and he prays -- _prays_ \-- that he grows out of it soon because if it keeps for as long as it did the last time then Javi won’t touch him for at least ten _years_ and he might just die from the frustration alone.

It still makes him so angry sometimes when he thinks about it. They took so much from him. Nearly everything. What he has he fought tooth and nail to keep, clawing deep inside himself so that the important things -- Sendai, skating, _Javi_ \-- would be buried so deep inside him no one _\-- nothing_ \-- could get to it and strip it from him. It had felt like a mad dash to save what he could.

Sendai. He’ll never forget because it’s important that he doesn’t. The tragedy, the hollowness. How helpless he was, how helpless they all were. The stars and how brightly they shined that night, offering themselves as beacons of beauty and hope. Everyone who’d been lost and wondering why he wasn’t one of them, promising them all he’d live a fulfilling life for them.

Skating and how much he loves it, how deeply he felt that love the first time he competed again after the tragedy and thinking _this is what I can do for my people._ How much of himself he’d sacrificed to make his country proud.

And Javi… the most precious of all. They tried to steal _Javi_ from him. So much is gone, lost forever things he’ll never be able to get back. This is what makes him the most angry. But at least… at least he saved Pyeongchang. That final podium and what their journey meant to them, to _him,_ even through all the tears. And worlds. All of them. _You’re the champion in my heart_ and years later, in Helsinki, his medal around Javi’s neck. Sochi and the disappointment in himself. _Never again,_ he had promised. Finland, seventeen and so smitten, the first time he tasted what desire meant. Rostelecom, their first true introduction, when he’d been terrified Javi would beat him only to hold on to his lead by the barest of margins. Javi’s quads, so beautiful and yet at the first chance he gets he was praising Yuzu with such genuine sincerity Yuzu felt touched.

He was able to save other clusters too, in his mad dash. Flashes of training in Canada with Javi and Nam, and that one single time he went out for drinks with Javi even if all he drank was a soda. Shoma. Cute, precious Shoma who was more sensitive than his overly cold and stoic face projected. His mother. Yumi. He doesn’t know if he can say he remembers her but rather he remembers the impression of her, what she did for him, what she meant to him, and the overwhelming regret that he was never able to pay her back properly for everything she sacrificed for him. Glimpses of Saya and his dad and Brian and Tracy and Ghislain too, but it’s never anything concrete. Not like Javi who sometimes burns crystal clear.

That love he felt for Javi all those years, he had cradled it close to him for years, nestled in his heart, and when they tried to steal it from him it’d been the first thing he buried. It’s so precious he wants it seared into his soul. He wants to carry it with him until the universe ends, longer even, if such a thing could be done.

They can take everything else. The hard earned fragmented English he learned to speak after years and years in Canada. The feeling of a quad, how to jump them properly, beautifully, perfectly. They can take his edges, the lines of his body and the control and the command he had after decades of training and competing so that he’s forced to relearn it all over again. They can take the memories of his parents, his grandparents, all of them. They can even take the control he had over his emotions, how to process it all so he doesn’t react like a child -- stupid and immature, so that when he falls in the middle of his program he can continue unaffected. They can rip all of that and more. They can even rip Sendai and skating from him too, heartlessly if they so choose too and he doesn’t have a single doubt that they will someday, but Javi is the one thing he will never let them take. Javi is the one thing they will never be able to take from him, hard as they might try.

He waited one lifetime to be with Javi, for Javi to be ready. A few more years isn’t meaningless but he’s determined. When the time comes he’ll make it happen. Just a few more years. Please. _Stay._

Javi scared him once, earlier in the summer, his heart dropping lower than dirt. Every year prior, like clockwork, mid-July, around the anniversary of his death Javi leaves them, takes a week-long vacation to go to Japan and visit Yuzu’s grave. It’s how Yuzu knows Javi hasn’t left him behind. Except this year, come day of, Javi didn’t go. Yuzu had walked into the club expecting a solo session with Sara but had instead been greeted by Javi instead.

“What are you doing here?” he’d asked, shocked because if Javi was there it meant he _wasn’t_ visiting Yuzu’s grave, and that meant that-

It meant Javi was finally letting go, moving on.

“You have to go.”

“What? Yuzu-”

“You _have to go Javi.”_ He knew he was on the hysterical side but it had all been happening so fast and he had feared but he hadn’t _prepared_ even though he knew -- _knew_ \-- Javi is the kind of man every woman, every man, everything in between those two dream of taking home to meet their parents.

He couldn’t breathe, the air catching in his lungs, loud ringing in his ear as everything else became muddled, and for a moment there on his knees it felt like he was in his old body again, plagued with asthma and not knowing when it would strike, haphazardly looking for his inhaler because an attack was hitting him.

He felt a hand cup over his mouth, a body behind him and through all the white noise, “Breathe. Yuzu, _breathe.” Javi,_ his mind supplies piercing through all the noise, all the panic.

They stayed there for what felt like an eternity, Javi warm against his back as he learned to catch his breath again, and oh, how he wished he could stay there forever.

He couldn’t though, not like that, not with Javi’s own fear and panic showing through every uttered, “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay, Yuzu.”

“Javi,” he had said weakly, the sound distorted. He tugged at Javi’s hand with both of his and they gave way. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Javi twisted him around until they were facing each other again. He cupped Yuzu’s face in his hands, palm warm against his cheeks. “Are you okay?” The relief he felt was palpable.

He only nodded in reply, the words caught in his throat. The tears, the damned tears, swell to line his lashes, and the words were falling out before he could stop them. “You always go. Every year you go and you visit-” _me,_ but he couldn’t say that, not yet. “You visit him. You visited him because you still _love_ him right?”

“Yes,” Javi had admitted quietly. There was no need to disguise it, to lie, because they both knew Yuzu would have seen through it.

“But this year you’re _here._ You didn’t go.” It started again, the oxygen being sucked out of his lungs, except this time before it escalated Javi pressed a firm hand over his mouth and nose again.

“Calm down, Yuzu,” Javi had said gently. “I don’t know why this is so important to you but I’ll tell you. Just please stop you panicking, okay? I’m going next week. I tried to go this week but I’m getting an award for the school and it’ll look bad if I don’t go. Okay?”

When the words sank in his entire body sagged in relief.

“Okay?” Javi prompted again.

He nodded. “Okay,” he said softly, finally breathing easier.

The question had been clearly written on Javi’s face -- why? -- but he didn’t ask. Yuzu suspects it’s because Javi didn’t want to trigger another attack.

For the rest of their session he was a mess, half aborted jumps and the rest falls, alternating between frustration at himself, his inability to control his emotions, his mental state, letting it affect his skating and praying for Javi to wait. Just a few more years. As little as three if he’s lucky. _Please._

\----

Juan Diaz, at fifteen years old, nearly sixteen, with a year on the senior circuit under his belt, had expected that when the Federation reached out to Javi to see if Javi would coach Juan, Javi would follow the steps of his own previous coach and discuss it with his own up-and-coming star Yuzuru Minami before making a decision.

Except Javi had smiled warmly at him and nodded. “Okay,” he says to the surprise of everyone else in the room, and then asked to be alone with him. In bright open daylight the unease in his team’s face had been clear but Javi only kept smiling at them expectantly until they left.

“So,” Javi begins. “Let’s discuss rates.”

“I want to train with you,” he says, won’t tell Javi _because ever since I was a boy you’ve been my hero._ “I’ll pay whatever you want.”

Javi shakes his head at that. “The Federation gives you a stipend?”

Juan nods in affirmation.

Javi starts ticking off a familiar list. “Skates. Blades. Costumes. Choreography. Music. Ballet lessons. Dance lessons. Airfare. Hotel. You know all this?”

“Yes.” It’s nothing new. Everything costs so much but he’s made it work so far even if his family and he are barely scraping by. They’ll make it work again. He has to because he loves skating so much. And maybe if he gets good enough to be noticed abroad he can work ice shows like Javi did, earn a bit of money that way.

“And your family situation?” This question is asked softly with no condescension because he's been there too.

“Not great,” he admits just as quietly.

Javi leans back into his chair. “When you skate with me I don’t want you to worry about anything but skating. So, you tell me what you can pay, and we’ll work together from there.”

Incredulously, hardly able to breathe, he asks, “Really?”

That draws a low chuckle from Javi. “Really,” he confirms. “I stayed in Spain to help talented Spanish skaters like you get elite coaching. What good would it do for Spain figure skating if I tell you no because of money? We have to work together to make figure skating bigger and bigger in Spain, yes?

“Yes,” he says, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“So,” Javi begins again. “Tell me what you can pay, and maybe we lie to the Federation just a little.”

\----

Javi expected that when he tells Yuzu he’s taking on another skater -- a rival no less; he’s not blind and neither is Yuzu -- to train, Yuzu might not be happy about it. “Might not be happy” is probably an understatement. He expected more maybe...

“Why you didn’t ask to me first?”

Or possibly...

“Do you have to?”

Or, worst case scenario, Yuzu throws a tantrum for a day or two, sulking on his own before eventually coming to him and apologizing.

Instead what he gets is a grin that stretches from ear to ear and twinkles in his eyes. “Really?”

It’s baffling. “Yes,” he says cautiously, eyeing Yuzu for any signs of deception.

Yuzu practically jumps up and down, clapping his hands in excitement. “Juan is such good skater. Not many people see but _I_ see.”  
  
Still dumbfounded, he blurts out, “You’re not upset?”

Yuzu looks at him like he’s lost his mind, scrunching his nose in confusion. “Why would I be upset? I know. Need good rival to train with so I can be better. And also-” He softens, his whole face morphing into something sweet. “Also, it is Javi’s dream to train Spanish skaters so I think this is only good.”

A wash of warmth and affection overwhelms him before he reaches out to ruffle Yuzu’s hair. “You’re being surprisingly mature, Yuzu,” and gets a shoulder shove for his comment.

“I am not child anymore, Javi. I am almost seventeen years old. And Javi’s dreams are important to me too. I want Javi to achieve them, and I want Javi to be happy so it is very easy. When does he come?” Yuzu asks from one breath to the next, hardly giving Javi’s mind time to catch up.

“Uh... Friday.”

“Friday?! That’s tomorrow! Javi! You should tell sooner! Have to prepare and make sure Juan feel welcome!”

\----

It’s another failed quad attempt with him splat on his back, chewed up and thrown away after a disastrous session on the ice. He’s breathing hard, tired, can’t remember what attempt number this is anymore and hasn’t been able to land a single one. Corner of his eyes he spots skates gliding towards him, the crunch of ice louder in his ears the closer they get, and then Yuzu’s face comes into view.

He’s given a smile and it lifts his spirits even if only marginally. Yuzu helps him up, brushes the ice shavings off his back, and with a quick fist pump in the air and a, “Vamos,” spilled from his still smiling face as encouragement he begins to skate away again.

Javi had told him the first year will be hard, that he will need time to adjust, to settle with the new training and how that changes his body’s muscle memory. He was good, Javi reassured, but maybe his technique hadn’t been all there. It’d been hard -- still _is_ hard -- to unlearn bad habits. Sometimes they creep back and it’s like his mind blanks for a second. He hesitates and he knows he can’t hesitate when he jumps.

“If you hesitate you already fail. You have to believe, Juan.” Yuzu.

He doesn’t know about Yuzu. They’re friends. They’re _friends_ and he doesn’t dispel the notion that the person who understands him best in the world is probably Yuzu. All his struggles, his doubts, the hardship and pain of pushing his body to the max day after day after day, Yuzu has gone through already, _is_ going through with him.

And he’s so kind to Juan, always there with a hand to help him up, or a smile to lighten his mood, especially when Juan mostly just wants to give up, or encouraging words to cheer him on.

“Javi was beautiful skater,” Yuzu had told him at the end of a hard practice, “and you skate like Javi.”

“Thank you,” he had said back, touched by the roundabout compliment.

Yuzu had grinned at him, wide and brilliant, nodding, his hands around Juan’s wrists. “This year for sure, both of us top five finish at Worlds. You just have to believe. And practice.” Then he had skated back to Javi like he hadn’t just made Juan’s day.

And it was like he spoke it into being because Juan _did_ finish top five, placing fifth with a hail mary quad salchow in the second half of his program and underperformance by some of the favorites, Yuzu placing fourth above him.

“Next year,” he said, nudging Juan’s shoulder with his as they watched the medalists from the sidelines. “I place first, you be second,” and Juan had laughed merrily.

“I think no,” he shot back. “You can be silver medalist.”

He knows he can do the quad salchow now because he’s done it before, and landed beautifully too if Javi’s words are to be believed, so he just has to keep practicing. Practicing will bring with it consistency. He goes again one last time before their session closes because quadless skaters can be complete but they’ll never be world champions or Olympic medalists, gaining speed with each stroke. When he jumps this time it’s like letting go and when he’s midair he knows he’ll land and that he’s finally remembered the secret to the salchow.

Javi claps excitedly and so does Yuzu. They’re quite a pair standing side by side. Yuzu doesn’t make it a secret how enamored with Javi he is and it’s pretty clear to everyone that Yuzu is his favorite of all his students. Juan had picked up on that right away when he first started, had worried that maybe the favoritism would show itself in training but it never did. Javi, each and every time, whether he was with Yuzu or not, gave Juan a hundred percent of himself.

Yuzu skates to him, excited and throws his lanky arms around Juan’s neck in a hug before he can protest.

“Okay, cool down you guys,” Javi instructs, a proud grin still on his face. 

They start their cool down routine while Javi hops off the ice, lazy stroking around the rink but he’s got too much energy. He’s just bubbling with it, exhilarated and reckless and dumb. He comes to a full stop, edge hard on the ice and pivots to face an oncoming Yuzu who, seeing him stop, had slowed down.

Yuzu’s brows knit together, concerned. “You okay?”

He doesn’t know why he does it other than he’s seventeen and he’s a boy and he’s dumb. He doesn’t know if he actually _likes_ Yuzu or if he’s just confused by all the emotions and the friendship -- he’s never had a friend so close, one who understood him so well -- and the figuring himself out, and it’s not like Yuzu is ugly or anything. He’s actually quite pretty. High cheekbones. Almond eyes. Delicate features. Full lips. Faster than Yuzu can blink he leans into Yuzu’s space and plants a chaste kiss on his lips. He pulls back after a second, two, grinning.

It wasn’t life shattering or anything. Actually, it was kind of weird. But he knows now at least. Kissing Yuzu? Does nothing for him.

He watches Yuzu touch his lips, still speechless, eyes wide in shock.

He waves a hand in front of Yuzu’s face. “Umm… Earth to Yuzu?” 

That seems to jar Yuzu out of whatever daze he was in. Suddenly his eyes are blazing and his whole body is one long, taut line. He’s angry, Juan realizes the moment Yuzu pushes him away using so much force that he yelps and falls backwards onto the ice.

Watching Yuzu’s back glide away he sees hands coming up to wipe at his face again and again. Oh God, he thinks, is Yuzu crying?

\----

Javi doesn’t see it happen but he suddenly hears it in the angry way that Yuzu’s blades are scratching the ice as he beelines for the exit. He spots the tears immediately when Yuzu stomps past him.

“Woah,” he says when he catches Yuzu’s arm. “Guards.”

Yuzu hardly registers at first, staring blankly at the fingers wrapped around his bicep, and then he follows the arm up to Javi’s face. Face to face like this the dam finally breaks, and Yuzu throws himself into Javi’s arms, fully crying into his chest. He looks over to Juan, sees him ass on the ice, guilt written all over him and knows something must have happened.

“Hey,” he says gently, cupping Yuzu’s cheek in his hand. “What happened?”

“He kissed me Javi,” he says through the tears. “He didn’t even ask. He just kissed me.”

Something twists unpleasantly in his gut. “Oh Yuzu. I’m sorry.”

“Was saving first kiss.” His hands come up to wipe at his eyes. “Was saving for Javi and now stolen!”

He catches Yuzu’s chin, ignores the part about himself like he does every other time, and tilts his head up so they’re eye level. “You get to decide if you want that to be your first kiss. If you don’t then it’s not.”

Yuzu sniffs at him, his nose all blotchy and red. “It don’t work like that,” he protests but Javi sees a crack, sees the hope in his eyes, and he makes to catch it before it slips away.

“Nope,” he insists. “It works exactly like that.”

The tears stop, finally, and Yuzu’s erratic breathing slows. He pauses to think. “Not first kiss,” he decides.

Javi breathes out a sigh of relief. “Okay,” he huffs out. “Put on your guards and get changed. Go home, okay? Don’t linger today.”

Yuzu, built to never miss an opportunity, asks Javi through wet lashes and a sniffle here and there, “Can I have lunch with Javi first?”

He probably should say no. No, there is no _probably_ about it, he should. Ever since Shoma -- damn him -- broached the topic again at Worlds while having dinner Javi has tried hard to ignore the truth but there isn’t any way to go around it anymore. Yuzu isn’t joking with Javi. He’s serious, and Javi knows the right thing to do would be to stop encouraging it, even if passively by accident. But Yuzu looked so vulnerable, open to being easily hurt again and Javi didn’t want to deal that blow so soon after the previous one. And, he knows secretly, he’s soft for Yuzu in ways he’s never been soft for anyone other than Yuzuru Hanyu.

“Sure,” he forces out as casually as he can, not giving anything away. “Let me talk to Juan first, okay? Then we can go get lunch.

Yuzu nods easily but the angry scowl is back on his face at the mention of Juan’s name. He goes back for his guards, snatches them from where he’d placed them earlier, slips them on and marches to the locker rooms.

Gearing himself up for a serious conversation he doesn’t want to have to have to do, he jumps back on the ice. Juan, who’d been doing slow figure eights across the rink, slows down for Javi to catch up.

“So,” he says, putting on his serious face. “We need to talk.”

Juan seemingly slumps forward and nods.

Even in Javi’s office he won’t look Javi in the eye. Javi decides it’s better to just jump right in.

“You can’t kiss someone without asking.”

“Okay,” Juan replies meekly, and that seems to take out whatever possible ire Javi might have had.

He sighs, walks around his desk and leans against it instead. “You understand why I’m upset about this, yes?”

“Because Yuzu is upset?” he guesses.

“No… Juan, I’m upset because you didn’t ask Yuzu first. You didn’t give him the chance to say no. It wasn’t consensual.”

There’s pure horror on his face when Javi’s words sink in. “I have to say sorry to him. I wasn’t thinking and I did something stupid.”

“He was really upset. Apologizing is a good start.”

“He’s gonna hate me.”

“He’s not going to hate you,” Javi reassures. “He’ll be mad for a week or two, and then things will go back to normal. Yuzu is nice and you’re his friend so he’ll forgive you. Just maybe… don’t kiss him again.”

“Never. Again.”

Javi nods at that, relieved. “To loop back,” he says. “I know movies and books like to romanticize these kinds of things but just so we’re clear, consent is important, okay? Consent isn’t always just the word either. You have to read the situation.”

“Okay,” he hears and is glad that it doesn’t sound like Juan is brushing it off. And then quietly, “Am I going to have to find a new coach?”

Javi is taken aback at first, and then squashes down the urge to laugh because doing so would definitely hurt Juan’s feelings. It seems silly to him but for someone as young as Juan it probably isn’t silly at all.

“No. You made a mistake,” Javi says gently. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

Juan’s entire body seemingly relaxes, and Javi thinks he’s breathing properly again for the first time since they stepped into his office.

“Go home,” he says to close their talk, patting the top of Juan’s head to reassure him. “I’ll rework the schedule for the next two weeks so you and Yuzu can have some time apart. Make sure you apologize before the two weeks end, okay?”

Their first week back on a similar schedule is rough. Yuzu is swift words and all high intensity, and Juan is on eggshells, wary. By the week’s end Javi thinks he might have to step in again, course correct them in the right direction but then Juan takes an especially bad fall. He begins to approach when Juan doesn’t get up, worried he might be hurt but pauses when he spots Yuzu watching, practically wringing his hands together. Javi stands back, stops breathing, and hopes.

Finally Yuzu moves, skidding to a stop in front of Juan. Juan looks up, stares at the hand Yuzu offers for a moment, and then he takes it. The rest of the session is lighter, and it’s only then that Javi realizes a weight had been bearing down on them all. It’s not perfect yet, still a little awkward, but it’ll get better.

By week three everything is okay. Juan jokes and Yuzu jokes along with him. They laugh and they hug and they’re hanging all over each other once more, and Javi feels so proud they figured things out mostly by themselves.

\----

Sometimes Yuzu feels guilty for giving out the wrong impression without meaning to. Honest. He likes talking with other skaters, likes being open and friendly especially when they’re probably the only people he’s going to see for a huge chunk of his summer and probably the next few ones after that. He just… touches naturally, affectionate sure, but he doesn’t mean anything beyond _friendly._

The last show of the summer is finally over but it’s happening again. Anya, who is indeed very pretty with her petite frame, dark blond hair, pretty green eyes has him caught up in a conversation about skating he was enjoying until her hand brushes along his arm. He tenses infinitesimally under her touch and pulls away subtly, enough so she understands the _sorry but I’m not interested_ because as pretty as she is he doesn’t want her. Even just for a folly. There are only two great loves of his life, one of them being skating and the other unequivocally is Javi. Anything else he doesn’t have time to entertain.

“Javi!” he hears in Juan’s welcoming, surprised voice and automatically perks up at that, eyes scanning the entire room quickly until he finds Javi by the door.

“Sorry,” he says with his most apologetic tone, plastering on his best smile, and before she has the chance to answer he’s already hightailing it to Javi, wheedling in between Javi and Juan, throwing himself into Javi’s arms and wounding his own around his neck, squeezing tight until Javi is laughing, fake wheezing, and then fighting to get away. “I missed you the whole summer,” he says into the crook of Javi’s neck.

“It’s only the end of June,” Javi teases.

“Trust me,” Juan says from behind Yuzu, exaggerated exasperation in his words. "The way Yuzu act, 'I miss Javi, I miss Javi so much,'" he mimicked, a hand over his heart, brown eyes doe-soft, "it certainly _feel_ like whole summer.”

Finally content enough Yuzu lets Javi go but can’t bear to let go completely. He slips his hand into Javi’s and they’ve done this so many times now, ever since Yuzu was a child, that Javi is completely unfazed. It hardly registers even when Yuzu squeezes and Javi reassuringly squeezes back on reflex.

He doesn’t notice it at first, not when Juan and Javi are talking to each other easily, Yuzu on standby happy to hear the melody of their voices as they go back and forth on their way to the hotel but when they’re alone, Yuzu finally spots it. Javi tries his best to hide but something is different now. There’s a wall Javi has erected and Yuzu isn’t sure why. What’s changed between Worlds and now?

And then he gets it when they’re exchanging goodbyes in the lobby of the hotel and Javi rests a hand on his head, ruffling his hair like he used to do when Yuzu was younger, before Yuzu told him to stop.

“I’m not a child anymore,” he had explained after ducking Javi’s hand. Javi had blinked at him, surprised as he slowly lowered his hand. He had blinked some more, confused, and then seemingly shook himself out of it. “I want Javi to see me as I am now.”

“Okay,” he had said, agreeing quietly, offering Yuzu an understanding, warm smile. “You’re all grown up now.”

He had said it, sure, but Yuzu knew Javi hadn’t quite believed the words even then, that deep down, no matter how much Yuzu protested or insisted Javi still only saw him as a taller, older version of that child crying in the graveyard because his favorite skater didn’t show up to meet him, of that boy clinging to his leg or that same boy making him pinky swear they’d get married someday. In a lot of ways Yuzu thinks Javi still sees him as that willful boy who admired him enough to chase him halfway around the world (again) to learn from him.

But now, now it’s different. Javi reveals everything through touch and after so long of not, to start ruffling Yuzu’s hair again means it’s more for himself than it is for Yuzu. He’s putting up a barrier, trying to draw a line but Yuzu won’t let him. He’s going to inundate Javi’s senses with everything he has.

Alone in his room he flops onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling with an unrestrained grin on his face, about ready to roll around his blankets in glee. Just a little more. He’ll push, and he’ll wait too and tread lightly because Yuzu knows that when Javi gets pushed too far he has a tendency to run away scared. All the same, his suspicion is that Javi won’t know what hit him. But then, when it comes to Yuzu, he never does.

\----

Everyone dismisses Yuzu as a serious contender for Olympic gold after he placed fourth in the short program. A terrible fall, that quad lutz, Yuzu almost planting face first to avoid landing terribly on his ankle. It’s a constant fear of his. Irrational, maybe, at such a young age, but that didn’t stop his insistence on learning how to take bad falls, what he needed to do when he’s up in the air and knows the landing won’t end well to minimize injury. It’s not just about rising to the top for Yuzu, it’s also about longevity. It’s about how he can make sure he stays there as long as he can because at the end of day there’s almost nothing he wants more than to compete and win.

The moment he stepped off the ice he fell into Javi’s arms, Javi whispering to him, “You did good,” low enough that the cameras and mics didn’t pick up.

In the kiss&cry Yuzu was already frowning, grimacing, pawing at Pooh’s face while bracing for impact before his scores came up. When the 98.48 was announced along with his fourth place rank he hadn’t been surprised. Every Olympian is strong this cycle, and it’s the Olympics. Of course they brought their best, waited to peak until this very event. Yuzu waited too, but he’d been too confident. The short program had always been his but he’d forgotten that the ice is a tempest and her favor waxes and wanes. There’s never room for complacency.

“98.48,” Javi had said, nodding, a hand squeezing the back of Yuzu’s neck reassuringly. “We can work with that.”

Yuzu had nodded because it’s true. He can work with that. He’s done it before, came back from worse to win. Maybe Javi meant bronze, maybe he even meant silver, but he should already know Yuzu isn’t settling for anything less than gold.

First to skate in the last group for the free Yuzu preps by the boards, stretching out his back and then his legs, shaking out the last of the lingering loose nerves through his limbs as he waits for his name to be called. Javi’s hands tighten on his shoulders in encouragement, nodding once at him and that’s all he needs.

Yuzu squats down, one last stretch, a deep breath to channel his energy, and when he comes back up to push off there’s a fire in his eyes, an intensity honed into razor thin precision that says, “I came to win.”

When Yuzu moves across the ice it’s like he’s soaring and when he jumps it’s like time is suspended, like he’ll never come down. It’s indescribable, the energy that Yuzu builds and feeds off of for his steps, for his sequence, perfectly in tune with the ebb and flow of the song like him and the music are one. When he comes out of his blur of a spin and poses on beat with the end of his song the audience is already on their feet, cheering and shouting and clapping like their lives depended on it, the commentator right along with them, telling everyone watching in their homes, “And that, ladies and gents, is how you become a world figure skating star.”

No one wants to admit it in post-competition interviews. They play it off like it was nothing, like they weren’t intimidated when they’re asked, like they didn’t hear the deafening cheers while waiting their turn, like _oh, I was just focusing on myself so I didn’t know how Yuzu did. But he’s a great guy, you know? World record. Wow._ They knew. Of course they knew and no one wanted to admit it but the truth is that Yuzu forced them off-kilter, unbalanced them and they couldn’t fully recover when it came their turn.

After the medal ceremony, before the press conference, in front of everyone Yuzu drapes his gold medal around Javi’s neck and hugs him, telling him, “I could not have done it without you.”

Javi laughs and he scoffs too, telling Yuzu, “Of course you can do it without me, Yuzu,” but his ears are flushed pink and his smile is wide, pleased, eyes crinkling at the corner.

\----

Later that night, while waiting for the red-eye to take off, Javi will blame Misha for mistakenly thinking they can relive their twenties again without any consequences.

“The kids’ll be at the banquet!” Misha had said. “It’ll be just like old times!”

For now though, he had stumbled outside out of the elevator some minutes ago and is currently trying desperately to slide his key into place so he can get inside and curl up on his bed to hopefully die a peaceful death before the hangover fully settles in. He’s not used to drinking more than a pint anymore, hadn’t for years, and so already he feels the hangover starting. With an even breath and a somewhat steady hand the key slides home.

Distantly he hears the elevator doors ding open, far off chattering, cheerful goodbyes and before he sees Yuzu round the corner he recognizes his voice, the cadence of it, the tone and the melody, making the other person Juan, who’d been assigned a room in the hallway perpendicular to Javi’s and Yuzu’s.

Yuzu is alone now, dressed in a clean, sharp suit. Ash-gray. Nice blue tie to complement. Conservative, as is the Japanese way, but forward enough that they’re not the ill-fitting ones he used to see Yuzuru and Shoma wear all the time. When Yuzu registers Javi his whole face lights up. It’s an entire vision in and of itself, beautiful and ethereal, and again Javi feels the urge to reach out, to touch, to push Yuzu’s half-swept bangs fully to the side to reveal his whole face.

He approaches Javi quickly like he can’t get to Javi’s side fast enough, half-trot half-skip in his gait until he’s got one set of fingers tangled in Javi’s, the other hand on his arm.

“Javi,” he says with a pretty smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling in pure joy. And then he smells the alcohol on Javi’s breath and wrinkles his nose in distaste. It’s not much, they didn’t drink _that_ much, just enough to maybe go a kilometer or two past buzzed and maybe into doing dumb things they shouldn’t territory, but Yuzu has never drank before, and always insisted he wouldn’t because it already smelled gross, how could it taste any better?

It surprises them both when, in the middle of the hallway where anyone can see damnit, Javi’s hand actually does reach up and brush Yuzu’s hair aside. It’s different from all the hundreds, maybe thousands, of times he’s touched Yuzu before. This is firmly in intimate territory now. Yuzu’s eyes widen, filling with hope and _finally_ as Javi leans into him, his eyes slipping down to Yuzu’s lips before glancing back up.

His eyes search Yuzu’s for answers to questions he already knows the answer to. He shouldn’t. He _can’t. It’s wrong, Javi, and you know it too._

He _does_ know it but he’s wanted so much. Two years it’s been building, longer probably but even in this state he can’t -- _won’t_ \-- admit it even if it’s only to himself. Day by day by day ever since one of the _Fantasy on Ice_ shows two years ago in Japan, the one show he’d attended because he was there to do a summer camp and had time and stupidly thought _why not? It’d be good to see Juan and Yuzu, to surprise them._ Yuzu hadn’t noticed him and that was fine, no big deal, he wanted to be low key anyway, and he wanted to enjoy the show from an audience member’s perspective.

Backstage, he’d gone to congratulate them, to say hello, and one of the russian girls -- there were so many of them he couldn’t keep track and all of them seem to have a crush on Yuzu -- was flirting with Yuzu, leaning in while they talked, smiling and laughing with her hand touching Yuzu’s arm. Logically Javi knew Yuzu’d probably been flirted with numerous times if the way Yuzu sidestepped and subtly rejected the advance is any indication but this was the first time Javi was seeing it live and something twisted inside of him, shifting and realigning.

Once he saw he couldn’t unsee. Yuzu wasn’t a kid anymore. Instead Javi felt innately for the first time Yuzu’s pretty face - the high cheekbones and the lidded almond eyes, pink tinted lips, his delicate lines that bely strong muscles underneath, cultivated from years and hundreds of hours of hard work. His hands and fingers, delicate yes but powerful too. He was sure of himself now, confident, fully grown into the frame he was more or less meant to have.

In that moment Javi had wanted, a slow sizzle starting in the pit of his gut, and even though he’d hoped it would, it never went away.

Before he even asks Yuzu whispers between them, “Yes.”

When their lips meet it’s like the first spark of a match lighting. He pushes in, angling Yuzu’s mouth with a hand on his jaw, and that’s the fuel that starts the fire. Yuzu tries to keep with Javi’s pace, enthusiastic in his participation, eager if somewhat clumsy. Not unexpected with his only other experience being Juan, which had probably been nothing more than a chaste brushing of lips.

_No,_ his mind supplies as Yuzu groans, his fingers digging into Javi’s shoulder, _that doesn’t count._ Because he told Yuzu he could decide and he decided it didn’t.

Yuzu jerks back, trying to catch his breath, their foreheads pressed together. He’s slightly out of breath too.

And then he remembers himself and who he’s supposed to be for Yuzu, and the guilt takes over. He pulls back. “Sorry,” he says, apologizing. “Sorry, Yuzu. I don’t know what I was thinking.” _Lie._ “I didn’t mean to.” _Another lie._ “I’m drunk.” _Not a proper excuse. There_ is _no excusing this._ “Let’s forget it happened, okay?” _Except…_ he doesn't think he can.

The breath Yuzu had been trying to catch comes out harsh, and his eyes narrow in anger. “No.”

“Yuzu-”

“I wait so long for you, I won’t wait anymore.”

Javi nods quickly, reaching for his door handle, ready to run away like the coward he knows he’s being. “I don’t want you to,” he says, even though that’s another lie. What’s one more at this point? “You should date someone your age, Yuzu.”

Genuine hurt crosses Yuzu’s features. “I don’t want to. That’s not what I mean.”

Javi exhales harshly. “I can’t, Yuzu,” he finally says, and makes for an escape.

Except Yuzu is quick on his feet and he pushes in after Javi before Javi can close the door on him.

“Yuzu, _please.”_

“I think now is the time to tell Javi my secret.”

“Tomorrow, okay?” he tries, begs really.

Yuzu shakes his head. “I think tomorrow Javi will run away from me. If I do not say now I think Javi will never let me say.”

“Yuzu-”

“My name now is Yuzuru Minami but before my name was Yuzuru Hanyu.”

Ice fills Javi’s veins, and his entire body hardens, sobering. “Don’t,” he warns, because he can forgive Yuzu anything but not this. _Not. This._

“It’s true,” Yuzu insists.

His mind races a mile a minute, hot with anger. “You want to believe that what? That in your past life you were Yuzuru Hanyu? Really? That what, reincarnation is real? And somehow we met each other again-”

“Not somehow,” Yuzu interjects hotly. “I keep telling you. No matter where you are, Javi, I will go to you. Because you are the most important in my life. In my _lives.”_

Javi scoffs at that. “I don’t think so.”

“I prove to you,” Yuzu says and takes Javi’s silence as an acquiesce. “Pyeongchang. In the green room. When cameras cut out you kissed my head. Not- not for romance but for friendship because I was so happy and cried so hard for you.”

Javi doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t need to. They both know it’s not enough. No cameras, yes, but they were hardly alone there. Boyang Jin, for one, and maybe he’d told Yuzu a few of the stories he remembers even though Javi is positive they’d never met.

“In Sochi. You tell Brian you are okay but you cry after. In locker room. You thought you were alone but I went to find you to say sorry. Javi was crying so did not notice. I- I was a bad friend. I did not know what to do so I left Javi alone to be sad. I am still disappointed in myself. I should have been a better friend.”

_That_ hits a little harder but no, _no._ Not out of the realm of possibility. Anyone would after a fuck-up like that.

And then-

“Helsinki. I say to you, ‘Maybe Javi does not have so many medals or titles but Javi has kindest heart I know. So, like I am always Javi’s champion, in my heart too Javi is always my champion.’”

“Stop,” he forces out almost before Yuzu could finish. _“Don’t.”_

The memory floods him, choking him silent. They hardly hang out but that night Yuzuru had made an exception. They had ordered room service for an ungodly late dinner, half strewn across the other bed after they were done. They’d been in the middle of some collaborative monster killing game Javi hadn’t really cared too much for but it hadn’t mattered much because it’d been something to do. Yuzu though, clearly was distracted even though this was his game.

He nudged Yuzu’s foot with his own. “What’s on your mind?”

Yuzu nudged back but only hummed in reply, mulling his words over in his mind. He had paused the game then, turning to Javi, uttering the words Yuzu had just repeated to him. 

It’d been as close to a confession as they could get, Yuzuru’s then, his two years prior. Even if he was still with Miki, more than any other time before or after, he had wanted to-

“I think that time you almost kiss me Javi.”

It’s true. He did almost, but he won’t admit it out loud. “I think you should go,” he croaks out instead.

Yuzu stands tall, silent for a moment, refusing to give up, to give in, to admit any form of defeat. “I lied before,” Yuzu tells him quietly. “I will wait for Javi. No matter how long it takes. Then. And now too. I was always ready, Javi, but you never were. I think in this life I don’t want to wait anymore. If I have to I will. I will wait for Javi for however long until Javi is ready but I think more, in this life, I will work harder to be with you, and I will not waver.”

And then he’s gone, not an ounce of defeat in his step and though he’d been the one to leave, the door closing lightly behind him, it hadn’t been a tactical retreat at all. If anything he was offering Javi a reprieve.

\----

Javi arrives with barely anything save his phone (sans charger), his wallet, and his winter coat. His eyes are bloodshot red from what Shoma only assumes is lack of sleep, but the smile he offers Shoma when they spot each other is genuine all the same.

“Hello, Javi,” he says when they’re close enough.

“Shoma,” Javi sighs in greeting, sounding relieved, and then he pulls Shoma into a prolonged hug, engulfing Shoma’s whole body with his. It’s something Shoma had gotten used to long ago and never really fought to begin with. He had always welcomed it, wanted to be held longer, closer, tighter, and maybe a nostalgic part of him had never quite let that go.

He doesn’t ask Javi why he decided to jump on a plane in the middle of the night, only calling Shoma to announce his unexpected arrival early in the morning. The train ride back home to Brooklyn is long, inefficient, and not for the first time he lamented New York’s barely sufficient public transportation. He thought about finally learning to drive once but the drivers here are crazy and Shoma very much enjoyed living.

“They’re not crazy,” Nathan had said goodnaturedly dismissive right before an impatient driver had swerved in front of him. He didn't even blink, unfazed by it all, used to the rhythm.

Shoma had glared pointedly at Nathan in response, hand gesturing to the car in front of them as a prime example as the driver honked away on the horn. Nathan only laughed, carefree.

“You can do anything, babe. Just go with the flow.”

It’s not an issue of can’t but rather an issue of Shoma would rather much not, thanks very much. He should have hired a car. An uber or something. Even if it would have taken just as long and cost ten times as much, at least they would have been alone. Instead they’re stuck surrounded with people on calls or playing games or just the low hum of conversations all around that still drives Shoma crazy sometimes when he’s trapped for too long. He misses the quiet of Japan constantly.

Thankfully they were able to grab seats when they boarded and not two minutes in Javi had passed out. He regretfully nudged Javi when they needed to switch from the train onto the J line ten minutes later, and as they descend he doesn’t miss the way Javi’s nose crinkle for barely a moment in disdain, there and gone before anyone else can notice it when the stale subway air hits his senses.

Shoma tamps down a smile. “You get used to it.”

Javi laughs sheepishly at having been caught. “Do you like it here?”

No one had asked him before, not really, not anyone who hadn’t expected an emphatic _yes_ from him because he finds that the people who live in New York City are pathologically narcissistic about it like it’s the best city in the world. He mulls the question over, probably giving it more thought than needed, before finding that yes, he does indeed like it here in New York City. All the reasons he hated before -- the smell, the lack of cleanliness, the noise -- are still there, still valid but ultimately he’s happy because Nathan is here.

“Yes,” he finally says, and Javi nods in acceptance.

When they get back home -- Williamsburg because Nathan refuses to let Shoma buy them a condo on Manhattan, cost too much he had said -- Javi slips into the shower while Shoma scrounges their closet for anything clean that would fit Javi, finally settling on a pair of Yale sweats and a large t-shirt of Nathan’s Shoma sometimes steals to drown in when Nathan is gone for conferences.

“Thanks,” Javi says as Shoma hands them over between the crack in the bathroom door.

“How long you stay?” he asks Javi over an early lunch and Javi shrugs.

“I don’t know,” and it’s so reminiscent of all those years ago when he’d ran away to Spain.

“Okay,” he says and nothing more because Shoma is not dumb. There’s only one reason Javi would be running away scared and in Javi’s shoes he’s not sure he would have stopped. It’s different for them, harder than it was for him and Nathan. There’s the age gap, for one. Thirty years is nothing to scoff at. And then there’s the fact that Javi is Yuzu’s coach. No matter how you try to spin it for the world the optics don’t look good.

They go about the rest of their day like they're the same pole of two magnets, moving around each other instead of coming together. Javi mostly sleeps or he’s staring off into nothingness, lost in his own thoughts. Once in a while he’ll be on his phone. Shoma, on the other hand, plants himself on the couch in the living room and plays his games, answers _steak_ via text when Nathan asks him what he wants for dinner. _Bring three. Javi here._ Shoma loves that Nathan doesn’t ask questions, sending only instead _got it._

In the end Javi climbs onto the couch with him, his head near Shoma’s thigh at first but inching closer and closer as time passes until he’s finally resting in Shoma’s lap. It’s not romantic or sexual. Javi seeks this sometimes when he feels vulnerable, when he needs the comfort of touch and the reassurance that someone is there. At the most it’s platonic cuddling and as much as Shoma doesn’t like to touch people who are not Nathan or family, for Javi he makes exceptions.

Shoma pauses his game and sets it aside. His fingers dig into Javi’s curls and massage his scalp. Javi sighs into it, eyes closing in momentary contentment.

They don’t speak for a long while, relishing in the relative silence until Shoma picks up his controller and starts his game again. Javi watches for a bit, and then softly, he tells Shoma, “He says he’s Yuzuru.”

There’s no need to ask who “he” is. “Do you believe him?”

Javi’s, “I don’t know,” comes out tired, strained. “But he knows something he shouldn’t. Something that he can’t possibly know otherwise.”

It’s silent again. Shoma doesn’t know what to think, what to say. It’s not like he’s thought too much about life after death, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out they’re discussing the possibility of reincarnation. That Yuzu really could be the reincarnation of Yuzuru Hanyu. There _are_ similarities. Skating. His propensity to disregard the line between masculine and feminine, choosing to wear whatever costumes he wanted. His attachment to Javi. There are even parts of his personality too, that has always reminded Shoma of Yuzuru. Ultimately, he concludes, it doesn’t matter what he believes or doesn’t believe, what it really comes down to is-

“Javi, do you _want_ to believe him?”

There’s nothing for a while. They slip back into silence, Shoma picking up his game again to let Javi think.

“Yes,” Javi says quietly as Shoma is about to make a kill. Neither of them speak after that. Whatever demons come with Javi’s revelation he’ll have to deal with on his own because whether he wants to or not, there’s nothing Shoma can do to help him.

He pushes Javi’s hair away from his face and Javi looks so young. Logically it’s ridiculous since Javi is pushing fifty and he has just passed forty-three a few months previous but for a moment, with Javi’s fear stricken eyes it’s like they’re both young again. He smooths the wrinkles at the corners of Javi’s eyes wondering when they’d gotten there, how so much time had passed. It’s been so long since Yuzuru passed away and since then there’d always been a part of Javi that hasn’t quite lived.

“I think, Javi,” he starts softly, “maybe time to start living again.”

Javi nods not in acceptance but in acknowledgment of Shoma’s words.

\----

It’s dark when Nathan pushes the door open with a shoulder, carrying the bag with their dinner in one hand. He flips the lights on during his trek to the living room, all quiet except the soft, low, barely there hum of the tv. 

“Hey,” he greets quietly, his hand resting on the back of Shoma’s neck, not missing Javi asleep on Shoma’s lap. Shoma tilts back, staring up at him with wide eyes. A gentle smile on his lips, and then whispers, _“Okaeri.” Welcome home._

Nathan leans down, pecks his lips before pulling back and away, setting dinner on their coffee table before he flops into the armchair.

Left hand on Javi’s shoulder, Shoma shakes him awake, and Nathan doesn’t miss the glint of gold. He doesn’t need the ring to feel secure but every time he sees it anew again he's left feeling awestruck because it’s like _wow, of all the people in the world Shoma married_ **_me._ **

Shoma had told him, before they were properly together, that Javi never stops burning hot like the sun. It didn’t matter how much Shoma wanted to bask in it because-

“I only burn. Like red skin and blisters and peeling. Too easily.”

It may be true. Javi might burn hot like the spanish sun and maybe once upon a long time ago Shoma might have felt caught up in it, trapped like Mercury, but what does it matter in the now? Shoma chose him. More than chose him Shoma-

They were in front of Shoma’s hotel saying goodbye for the night. It had been a not date that was totally a date except Shoma didn’t realize. He ruffled Shoma’s hair before turning to leave, and when he did fingers caught his wrist.

Heart speeding fast, he turned back around hopeful that maybe, _maybe-_

Calmer than he felt, he asked, “Shoma, do you want me?”

Shoma’s eyes dipped down, awfully interested in the cement. “Yes,” he uttered like it pained him to admit it out loud.

Nathan suppressed the urge to jump around like a fool. Instead, cooly, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Like he’d plucked all the courage he had, Shoma finally looked up at him, eyes set ablaze. Still, he tiptoed shyly to Nathan, closing the distance between them carefully before he stood on his toes to chastely place his mouth on Nathan’s.

Nathan couldn’t help smiling into the kiss.

Before him, before _them_ Shoma had lived his life passively, moving from one day to the next through the path of least resistance, never one to make any waves when not necessary. Skating was different, of course, but it was like his family’s long history of wealth, _his_ wealth, allowed it everywhere else. Everything he wanted, everything he needed had always just been given, a privilege that is afforded to very few.

And so with Mao, with Javi he didn’t know how to act on his feelings much less take what he wanted. But with Nathan, with Nathan he had kissed Nathan first.

So yeah, what does it matter that Shoma still kind of turns into mush in front of Mao some thirty plus years later? Or that he runs to Javi or that Javi runs to him? What does it matter if they cuddle on the stupidly expensive couch Nathan stubbornly bought because Shoma bought the condo? Or that Shoma is still probably a little in love with him? Of all the people who threw themselves at an oblivious Shoma, and Javi and Mao, Nathan is the only one Shoma wanted enough to _do_ something about. That means so much more. 

\----

He makes it back in time to catch Yuzu’s gala performance live from behind the boards. He’d been blind not to see the truth before. But then maybe he didn’t want to face it either, not when he could run away. Yuzu moves like spring across the ice, like a petal floating in the wind. Beautiful. Seemingly effortless. And not even half of what he can accomplish yet. Javi has always thought this about Yuzu. Now. Five years ago when he’d still been a bright-eyed fifteen-year-old cursing his changing body and Javi his blissfully clueless coach. Thirty years ago when they’d been learning to train together in Toronto, him leading and setting the pace because Yuzu is always impatient.

Most days he likes to believe he’s a good person, or at least he tries to be. Today, watching Yuzu slip into his ending pose, gentle hands on his chest, eyes up like he was looking at the stars Javi wants to be but when a smile breaks across Yuzu’s face and sets it aglow he knows for certain he won’t be anymore. 

After, he knocks on Yuzu’s door.

In the middle of the room with Yuzu’s skin dewy and hair still damp from his shower, Javi asks him, has to know, “Why me? You can have anyone.”

“I don’t want just anyone,” Yuzu answers without pause.

“But why me?” he repeats intently, won’t let Yuzu not answer. “I’m old,” he presses on. “More than twice your age. I have gray hair and wrinkles, and my body doesn’t look like it does when I was in my twenties anymore.”

Yuzu takes a deep breath before he steps in closer. Javi resists the urge to falter, to back away, instead forcing himself to stay rooted, limbs like the heavy trunk of a tree. 

Tentatively, Yuzu reaches out, fingers brushing along the gray at Javi’s temple. “Maybe here Javi is not the same. And here too.” Fingers caress the wrinkles near Javi’s eyes while his own go soft. “No more hard muscles,” he agrees, fingers squeezing Javi’s bicep. “Disappointed six pack gone, yes.

“But here,” he emphasizes with a hand over Javi’s heart. “Here, Javi is the same.”

“Yuzu,” chokes out of him and Yuzu stops, looking at him with hard set eyes, waiting patiently for Javi to continue. When it’s clear that Javi won’t, or _can’t_ because he doesn’t know what to even say in response, Yuzu presses forward.

He draws up Javi’s hand, resting it over his own heart. “I am young, yes,” he begins. “Because terrible thing happened and they would not let me stay. But I can say this: here, like Javi I am also the same. No matter now or then, this life or that life, I have always loved you with my whole heart.”

It’d been a losing battle, he knew, a struggle with no hope of winning. Yuzu is a force to be reckoned with and Javi is so tired of fighting him.

“Are you sure?” he asks one last time, needs to be absolutely certain, and hears Yuzu’s breath catch like he knows he’s finally won.

“Yes,” he breathes out, anticipation marked in the expression on his face.

Javi steps in close to Yuzu, feeling the heat and anticipation rolling off of him in waves. “Can I kiss you?”

It’s Yuzu who kisses him _,_ impatient as always, a quick rush of meeting lips but then it softens, mellows out, and they settle into something easy, simmering instead of boiling like the first kiss had been.

They end up on the bed, Yuzu’s lean, lithe form half atop Javi’s chest. He pulls back mid-kiss to stare down at Javi in marvel, and it shocks Javi to see that Yuzu is looking at _him_ like he can’t quite believe Javi is there.

“Hey,” he says gently, the pad of his thumb brushing along Yuzu’s jaw. “I’ve missed you so much. All this time.”

The words break Yuzu out of the reverie he’d been caught in. “I am here,” Yuzu answers, running his fingers along Javi’s brow. “Javi did not see but I have been right here all along.” And then a grin creeps onto his mouth, a glint in his eyes that makes Javi apprehensive because it’s the look Yuzu has before he does something heart attack inducing for Javi.

“Let’s get married.”

Javi reels back. “What?”

“Javi, let’s do it.”

“Yuzu, don’t you think that’s moving a bit fast?”

_“No,”_ he insists, determined, frowning at Javi’s words, glowering like how dare Javi even suggest waiting but then he softens, a touch of sadness and regret around his mouth and eyes. “Life is so short, and I have waited so long.”

That stings an ache in his chest and gnaws at the pit of his stomach but there is only truth to Yuzu’s words. Life _is_ short and it’s only getting shorter now, for him at least, and he waited too long last time, so long he almost missed out on this, on _Yuzu._ But they should wait. They _should_ wait until everything is more settled, give it some time, give Yuzu the chance to change his mind. He’s the responsible one and God, how the hell did that happen? He should put a stop to it but as he looks up at Yuzu though, who’s gleaming from excitement he catches it too, and before he knows it he’s stretching up to plant a kiss on Yuzu’s mouth and stupidly telling him, “Okay.”

\----

Shoma is about ready to kill Javi when he picks up his phone at five in the morning. “Javi,” he grumbles. “Better be dying.”

Javi’s laugh twinkles distantly, distorted by terrible muffling almost like-

“Are you driving?”

It’s confirmed when he hears Yuzu, a happy, jubilant, but still muffled, “Shoooma~~~!” 

“Where are you two going?” he follows up with, pinching the bridge of his nose because already he knows he’s going to regret asking. Nothing good happens in the middle of the night much less at _five in the morning._

“We’re going to Vegas!” explodes from Yuzu. Still happy, still bubbly, Javi’s own laughter mingled with Yuzu’s. 

“Oh god,” he groans at the same time as Javi’s insistent, “Shoma. Shoma~! Shoma-kun!” A term of endearment from Javi who only uses it when he’s teasing or when he wants something. “Can’t stop you. You don’t want me stop you. What you want Javi?”

“Come to our wedding,” Javi invites, and then he adds, “I want you to be there.”

“And need witness!” Yuzu chimes in. “Oh! Bring Nathan!”

And that’s how, at noon the following day, he’s in a chapel standing next to Javi as his best man with a still baffled Nathan who’d been needed as Yuzu’s “maid” of honor.

“What is happening?” Nathan had asked discreetly through the corner of his mouth and Shoma had shrugged, deciding to explain later. “I didn’t even know they were together.”

When the _I do’s_ are finally said and done Shoma is filled with a sudden relief. Watching them kiss, happiness radiating off of them, Shoma doesn’t have room to feel anything other than happiness. Maybe it’s true that they rushed into this, what with him and Nathan receiving barely enough notice to catch the first flight out to Vegas. It’s most definitely a bullheaded decision, probably idiotic, but in ways that no one else save the three of them understand (maybe four if he tells Nathan), it’s been a long time coming. A lifetime even, depending on how you look at it.

Javi deserves this. Everyone wants him to be happy, none more so than Shoma, and he’s glad Javi finally gets to have the happiness he’d given up on a long time ago.

When Javi and Yuzu break apart, Javi is beaming. He drags Shoma into a hug, squeezing him tight with a friendly kiss atop Shoma’s head and Shoma wraps his arms around Javi’s middle. He squeezes back, an ear pressed against Javi’s warm chest, breathing in Javi’s scent, his eyes closed to savor the moment.

He looks up to see Javi’s exuberant face. _“Omedetou,_ Javi,” he offers sincerely, means it from the bottom of his heart.

“Thank you,” Javi says, accepting his congratulations, understanding that they’re not just shallow words.

After, Nathan slings an easy arm around his shoulders and says to everyone, “How about celebratory lunch? Wedding present from me and Shoma.”

Javi grins and Yuzu beams, his hand in Javi’s, more at the easy acceptance than the offer, and Shoma is reminded once again of the reasons why he loves Nathan so much. The newly wedded couple leaves first, Yuzu practically skipping down the aisle, but Shoma stays behind, standing where he’s at. Nathan starts to follow but stops when Shoma doesn’t move.

Concerned, he swings around until they’re face to face, asking him, “Babe?”

Shoma yanks him by the tie and plants his mouth on Nathan’s, sighing into the kiss when Nathan opens for him without thought.

“I love you, Nathan,” he says when the kiss ends, eyes burning his words into Nathan’s, palms running down Nathan's sharp, crisp suit, coming to rest at his narrow waist.

Nathan’s eyes turn crescent with a smile of true joy. “I know,” he tells Shoma honestly. He pecks Shoma’s mouth quickly, says to him, “Love you too.”

\----

Javi can hardly breathe, his heart is beating so quickly in his chest. Feels like he’s twenty again and Yuzuru Hanyu’s shirt has just ridden up to reveal the barest teasing sliver of pale tan skin. One button undone followed by the next until a wide expanse of skin is revealed. He stares in awe, dragging his fingers down the dip in Yuzu’s chest, following the natural line down past his navel and to the button of his slacks.

Half of him can’t believe they actually did it, _they got married in Vegas_ and the other half can’t believe they got married in a two day old wrinkled ash-gray tieless suit and jeans and a cream-colored sweater.

He feels the tight line of Yuzu’s abs at the end of his finger tip, feels how the muscles underneath are clenched, and his eyes flick up quickly to reassess and sees how Yuzu has gone completely still. He had sounded more than willing before moaning through their kisses, clawing to pull Javi’s sweater off, but maybe he’s changed his mind. His hands slip to the side, holding Yuzu’s hips. He places a quick kiss on Yuzu’s stomach, rejoicing in how it flutters underneath his touch.

“Yuzu,” he prods gently. “It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

Yuzu’s hands slip over his face, hiding him away as he groans in embarrassment. He says something but Javi has no hope of working it out, muffled as it is by Yuzu’s hands.

Another affectionate kiss lands on Yuzu’s stomach and it flutters again. “I can’t hear you.”

One arm slips up so that Yuzu can partially hide his face behind the crook of an elbow, the other resting next to his side, fisting and unfisting the sheets underneath them. “I said I want so much but can’t stop nerves. I… Javi. I never-” _have sex_ “-before.”

It’s endearing how Yuzu can’t even say the words properly. He’s shy like he thinks Javi didn’t know. Javi crawls back up, steals another kiss from Yuzu’s lips, pushing his arm away so they can see eye to eye. He grins down, urging a confused Yuzu to sit up, flipping them over after so that Yuzu is on top, straddling Javi with his hands on Javi’s chest.

“We go at your pace,” he says by way of explanation, a thumb caressing Yuzu’s cheekbone. “Anything you want. You’re in charge.”

There’s a smirk like Yuzu is putting on a facade, implying he is always in charge, except it doesn’t quite reach his face. A moment later, it fully slips away, and he asks, unsure, “What if I’m bad at it?”

Javi tucks a tuft of hair behind Yuzu’s ear, reassuring him gently, “I’ll show you how.”

Yuzu sucks in a deep breath, and then puts all his trust in Javi.

\----

There’s a sudden pounce on his chest reminiscent of Effie from years and years ago, all the air squeezed out of his lungs by unexpected weight. He groans, eyes popping open to see Yuzu peering from atop him, hands interlocked underneath his chin with an endearingly cute grin on his face.

“Good morning, Javi,” Yuzu says brightly, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Good morning, Yuzu,” he echoes, his hands carding through Yuzu’s black hair.

A wicked smile, a teasing kiss on his solar plexus, and then Yuzu crawls until they’re the same height. He kisses Javi, languid and sensual and working Javi up, and when he pulls away he demands, “Again,” against Javi’s mouth.

He rolls his eyes but flips them over in an instant, wrapping Yuzu’s leg around his waist, Yuzu shrieking with peals of laughter while Javi tickles his sides. When Javi works his way back inside Yuzu can only gasp and moan, his fingers clawing at Javi’s back, neck bared so that Javi can leave a bruise.

\----

She is on time for their scheduled lunch but when she arrives Javi is already there waiting for her. Some think that Javier Fernandez is not only Yuzu’s coach but a family friend because they chat sometimes when she picks Yuzu up and they’ve known each other since Yuzu was a baby. There’s no truth to it mostly because Yuzu has always protested against it vehemently, nipping it before it began. So it's strange he would request to have lunch with her without Yuzu. Stranger still, when she’s led to their table he stands up to greet her and bows the full ninety-degrees.

Flustered, she doesn’t know what to say. When they sit down, she finally notices the ring on his finger and when she does her heart drops. Her first thought is _Please, no,_ followed by _Yuzu will be devastated._

She remembers:

Yuzu, five years old, confiding in her, “Javi and I promised to marry,” and she had thought it cute, believing it would go away someday.

Yuzu, ten years old, begging her to let him join the camp Javi is coaching with Uno Shoma in Nagano even though they live in Sendai and her thinking it was only a crush.

Yuzu, fourteen, moving heaven and earth to train in Spain, to have Javi as his coach, and the first inkling that maybe it was something more than a crush.

In the following years since she’d grown accustomed to the thought someday Yuzu would come to her and tell her, “Mom, I’m marrying Javi.”

She directs a wan smile at him in between looking the menu over and exchanging meaningless pleasantries. After they place their orders, he locks his fingers together. The look on his face tells her what she already knows: this is more than a nice lunch between a coach and a parent.

He begins:

_Yuzu wanted to be here but I think you deserve to hear from me._

and 

_For a long time now you’ve trusted Yuzu into my care and I want you to know I didn’t mean for this to happen. And nothing happened at all until he became an adult._

and 

_I do love him very much and I promise to take care of him._

and-

It dawns on her what he’s trying to tell her, the relief flooding her whole body palpable. It has happened sooner than she had wanted but better early than never at all. She rests a hand on his and she tells him gently, “Will need to have proper wedding too.”

\----

Shoma, current World Championship technical analyst, eyes Yuzu gliding around the rink, fingers crossing over his body to check his axis as per his tradition. There’s a change this time though, an addition. Before he settles into his starting position he raises his left hand to his mouth, placing a subtle kiss on the ring Shoma knows is hiding under the glove. Good luck charm now, probably. Javi is stone-faced pretending he doesn’t see or understand and Shoma resists the urge to face palm. The fans eat it up though, like they eat up everything else Yuzu does.

\----

Fawning coverage post his Olympic win the month prior has become the norm. There is some irony though, in being told after his Worlds win that he has an elegance and grace on the ice not seen since Yuzuru Hanyu.

\----

It’s like one of those changes that sneak in going unnoticed until finally it’s unavoidable and causes a stir. 

Javi wears a ring now, plain gold band on his left ring finger, and Juan didn’t notice it until they’re already in the middle of their session. Javi had been deep in thought, analyzing Juan as he skated around the rink attempting jump after jump and completing about half of them. Left thumb on his chin, the ring had stood out, and when Juan noticed he almost dived face first into the ice, tripping over his own skates.

Concerned, Javi skated to him. “What’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself that last pass?”

Juan shakes his head, embarrassed. He stands up, brushing ice shavings off of him. He clears his throat and nods to Javi’s ring. “Um, congrats,” he says awkwardly. “On your marriage.”

Sara, who’d been passing by with a few juniors, overheard and rounded back around instantly. “What?” she practically screeched, and Juan winces as the pitch of it hits his eardrums.

“Sorry,” he mouths to Javi when Sara starts bombarding him with questions.

_When? Who? How come you didn’t tell us?_ All questions Juan is curious about as well but it seems Javi isn’t willing to answer.

Two weeks later Yuzu returns from Japan for the start of a new season, and Juan’s jaw drops.

“Oh. My. God.”

Yuzu looks over his shoulder at either side of him quickly, confused by Juan’s reaction. “What?” he asks. “There is something on my face?”

Juan points at him. Or, more precisely, he points at the ring hooked through one of Yuzu’s many necklaces. Yuzu follows Juan’s finger, then his eyes widen in realization that somehow, against all odds, Juan has connected the dots.

Yuzu rushes to him, his blades scratching quickly across the ice. Before Juan can open his mouth for another exclamation of _oh my god_ Yuzu traps it behind his hand.

“Juan,” he says seriously, his eyes boring into Juan’s. “We are going to be calm about this, yes?”

Juan nods immediately. Yuzu hesitates at first but does remove his hand, both hands squeezing at Juan’s shoulder now.

“Oh my god,” Juan spits out in a hushed whisper. “When?!”

Yuzu’s face softens, far off look, and Juan presumes he’s slipped back in time. “Right after Olympics. Javi and I take road trip to Vegas.”

Once more, “Oh my god,” because it hasn’t really sunk in yet.

Yuzu glowers at him. “Stop saying that.”

“I’m sorry! I can’t! Just- And-” Juan ceases for a breath to calm his excited nerves, and then follows with something else Yuzu deems incredibly stupid and offensive. “He is so old.”

This time Yuzu glares. “Does not matter to me,” he says matter of fact, and the truth in those words slice through whatever disbelief Juan still holds. _This_ is the Yuzuru Minami he sees on the ice during competitions, fierce and stubborn, intense, fighting until the very last moment. “Javi is my soulmate.”

“When did you get together?” he asks, still curious, and sees Yuzu take it the wrong way, throwing his shoulders back and gearing up for a fight. It doesn’t matter, he realizes, shifts his question instead. “Are you happy?”

Yuzu softens again. “Yes. Very happy.”

Juan closes the distance between them, pulling Yuzu into a loose hug. “I am happy for you,” Juan says into Yuzu’s ear. “You have been fighting for Javi for long time.”

Yuzu laughs and it’s joyous. “I wait so long,” he says. After they pull apart, Yuzu’s happiness shifts into something else: worry. “I don’t want you to think- Javi is good person. Javi never made me- we didn’t- He only say yes to me day before Vegas.”

Juan squeezes one of Yuzu’s shoulders, his thumb resting along the juncture where his throat meets his neck. “I know Javi is good person. I think, Yuzu, you are person who make Javi do things.”

Yuzu laughs again, nodding emphatically, his eyes lighting up. “Yes,” he says. “I make Javi.”

\----

Between the start of the season and the end of the Grand Prix Series nothing really changes. They’d podium the year before so didn’t meet in competition until the Final where Yuzu wins gold and Juan wins silver. He’s disappointed, of course he is, but some days Yuzu is unbeatable.

It’s a break in their normal routine after. Instead of returning home to Spain and taking a short break before returning to practice for the second half of the season, Juan goes with Yuzu and Javi to Japan for what Yuzu calls a “proper” wedding while clearly tamping down the urge to roll his eyes.

“Yuzu,” Javi had said disapprovingly, admonishing.

“Yes?” Faux innocence as Yuzu blinked at Javi.

“It’s important to your family.”

Yuzu had sighed. “Thank you for doing for my family.”

The very traditional wedding, held in a buddhist temple, is beautiful. Javi and Yuzu, in their also very traditional Japanese not kimonos - _montsuki_ with _hakama_ and _haori,_ he remembers Yuzu saying, make a very handsome picture together. There were whispers, of course, words which Juan did not have any hope of understanding, but he knew the tone well enough. Figure skaters do it too.

It doesn’t seem to matter to Javi. And Yuzu too, who had grumbled before but is now calmly radiant. And sure, maybe Yuzu’s dad and brother don’t look quite as thrilled but Yuzu’s mom… she’s… well, she looks so proud she’s glowing. 

The whole ceremony is filled with customs and rituals he doesn’t understand but through it all he feels calm, peaceful, happy that his best friend thought him important enough to share this part of his life with him. Yuzu and Javi leave the temple together, side by side, equals, to the sound of applause and for a bit there, through the dinner later that evening and Japanese Nationals everything really did seem perfect.

And then the year turns new and their world is upended, flipped over into chaos.

\----

Best guess from the pictures in the tabloid, it’d been paparazzi. Yuzu dismisses the idea of it being a fan as it would have most likely made it through social media first before being picked up by normal tabloids, meaning, because he “secretly” stalks Javi’s name online he would have seen it first. No pictures from within the temple so at least he knows no one in his family, immediate or no, or friends of the family sold him out.

He releases a statement through the JSF who, though unhappy and unsupportive, did not want to appear so in public with the changing opinions of the times now that a new generation and their ideologies about love and inclusion and tolerance are starting to not only emerge but take over. He’d written something thought out and concise: that yes, he and Javi are indeed married, that though he is young he knew -- _and wanted_ \-- to marry young. That although their relationship is unconventional, hinting at but not mentioning their age difference outright, Javi being his coach, he knows he has not made a mistake.

_It may be displeasing to some, and maybe others will not understand, but please know that we love each other very much and are both very happy. I will forever be grateful to everyone who has supported me thus far; and I am very thankful for all who still support me now and wish us both well. I will continue to work harder to be someone the people of Japan can proudly say is Japanese._

Javi, similarly, writes something in Spanish and English on his Instagram. Some of the comments are supportive if somewhat confused and surprised. But a lot -- _a lot_ \-- of them are vulgar, nasty, cursing Javi out and calling him names. Comment after comment, pedophile, _pedophile._ And screams for an investigation to be conducted.

“It’ll stop eventually,” Javi had said, shrugging, but in the deep set of his eyes Yuzu could tell it was getting to him. Not the comments nor the speculation in the tabloids but Sara -- one of Javi’s closest friends, someone who’d known him when they were practically babies -- wouldn’t even look at Javi anymore even though Yuzu had tried again and again to tell her, “Javi did nothing wrong. We didn’t even kiss until Olympics and I was twenty. Perfectly adult and can make own decisions!”

There is another word too that gets tossed around -- _grooming_ \-- and when he learns what that word means he can’t help crying in the locker room. He hears the door open and he wipes at his eyes furiously, trying to get rid of the evidence but it’s too late. His face is blotchy and red, and Juan sees right through his attempt.

There’s a pained look on his face as he walks towards Yuzu and takes a seat next to him. “How are you doing?” he asks.

Yuzu laughs, pained and hurt, and the tears start afresh.

“Okay, it was stupid question,” Juan concedes. He wraps an arm around Yuzu, hand curled around his bicep, and he gives Yuzu’s whole body a quick reassuring squeeze.

“A lot of people say bad things about Javi. Untrue things. Things with a lot of hate,” he murmurs. “I knew maybe something might happen when we get found out but I thought a lot more people are better now. Now I think people are actually worse.”

“I don’t know, Yuzu,” he says. “I think maybe always be worse when behind computer. It is hard to remember but you always have me,” he offers. “And Shoma and Nathan. Yuzu, they _skating legends_ and they support you too.

“Maybe you too focused on bad stuff so you don’t see,” Juan says while pulling out his phone. “Shoma and Nathan are really private, no? But they post on Nathan’s instagram. They tell you congrats and they support you and Javi. And that you look very good together.”

No, he _hadn’t_ seen because Juan was right, he did only focus on the bad things. He scrolls through the comments, knows he shouldn’t but couldn’t resist, and is surprised to see that here at least a lot of the comments are positive. And for the negative ones -- the ones that get attention at least -- Nathan is shooting them down, telling them _You shouldn’t judge when you don’t know the story_ and _It’s just love. They just love each other and there’s nothing wrong with that._

It does make him feel better. He breathes out a sigh, feeling a bit of the weight lifted off. “Thank you. And thank you also for posting picture with Javi and saying Javi is best coach.”

Juan smiles at that. “Javi is definitely best coach. I won’t say anything about you and Javi’s relationship but if people say stupid things to me I will beat them up.” Yuzu’s eyes widen in alarm. “Nicely, of course,” he tacks on and sees Yuzu relax. “With my words.”

At home Javi cups his face in his hands, and tilts his face up so they’re looking eye to eye. “There you are,” he says, and Yuzu holds on, arms locked around Javi’s neck when Javi kisses him.

“It doesn’t bother you?” he asks later when they’re in the shower. Javi shakes his head no and then places a kiss and Yuzu’s shoulder. “Why?”

“I’m old, Yuzu,” he says, and stops Yuzu from protesting with fingers pressed to his lips. “I stopped caring about what people say a long time ago. If I know the truth and you know the truth, it’s enough for me.”

Yuzu peers up at him, searching his face for lies but finds nothing but affection and love. “I try too,” he murmurs. “Because Javi is the most important person to me.

\----

The competitions are harder for Yuzu after. Every point he gets he has to fight tooth and nail for. Juan watches 4CC and has to actively stop himself from getting angry when Yuzu gets edged out of gold by a bad call. An underrotation. _Yuzu._ _Under-rotated._ The exact same Yuzu everyone had been touting as the textbook example of perfect technique earlier in the season. Now he’s getting under-rotations and edge calls that don’t exist.

"Well, everyone gets one eventually," a gleeful American commentator had said.

And Worlds… this isn’t how he wanted to win. Javi used to say better to have skated his best and lost than to win because others didn’t do well and Juan had taken that to heart every time he lost, especially to Yuzu. In this case, however, it wasn’t even that Yuzu didn’t do well. Everyone can see who the real winner is and Juan feels like a fraud standing atop the first place podium

He plasters on a tight smile through the rest of the ceremony on ice, and after, away from cameras, he wants to whip the thing off him and throw it away. It’s Yuzu who approaches him, tears in his eyes because he wanted this win so bad, but a genuine smile on his lips because he’s happy for Juan.

Yuzu’s hand smooths over the strap of the medal, staring at the gold laying on top of Juan's chest. “World Champion Juan Diaz.”

“Don’t,” he chokes out.

“It is not your fault,” Yuzu says. “You skated very beautiful today.”

“You should of won.”

At that Yuzu shrugs. “Should. Could. Don’t matter now. I want to say to you, I am very proud of you. Spain is a second home to me and I am glad that Spain now has one more world champion. I like hearing, ‘World Champion Juan Diaz’ so be happy, okay? Because you work hard and you deserve it too, and I am very happy that if I lose then I lose to Juan.”

Juan couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed with emotions he pulled Yuzu in for a hug. “Thank you,” he breathes out. “I beat you for real next year.”

Yuzu laughs and breaks the hug. “You wish. Next year I take back my gold.”

\----

To talk about private matters in public, to address it at all and not pretend nothing is wrong, is very un-Japanese but Yuzu decides this is the best course of action. He wants to say his piece and lay it to rest. He wants the _world_ to move on from this.

In his only serious interview post Worlds, after the normal questions -- how do you feel now that the season is over? What went through your mind during your free skate? When you lost your title, how did you feel? -- he tells the world calmly, “I am the one who has always chased Javi. Though Javi never rejected me outright everything he did told me no many, _many_ times over. But I never gave up. From when I was a child I always said, ‘I will marry Javier Fernandez’ and now I have made it come true.”

The interviewer prods, “But what do you say to those who accuse Fernandez of taking advantage of you because of your young age?”

Yuzu listens intently to the question and takes a few moments to gather his thoughts. “If anything I am the one who took advantage of Javi’s kindness. Javi is the kindest and most honorable person I know, and I am proud to say that he is my husband. The people who say that Javi took advantage of me or that he molded me are very wrong. From the very beginning, even before I went to train in Spain I aimed to make Javi mine.”

The interviewer is gobsmacked. “But you were fourteen. Surely it didn’t...”

Yuzu nods. “It did not start when I was fourteen. Javi did not agree to be with me until after the last Olympics."

"Ah, I see. You were twenty by then. Considered an adult even here in Japan though I’m not sure if that matters to a lot of people. But are you saying at fourteen you knew?

"Yes, I was fourteen but I knew. It is like Javi and I are tied together by red threads. If you look at the events of our meeting, even in our names you will see. My mother loves figure skating and she named me after Hanyu after he passed because he was her favorite. She would often show me old videos of Javi and Hanyu skating and that is how I grew to love skating too. That is how I came to learn who Javi is. And then for our lives to intersect where it had, the place where Hanyu is buried along with my grandmother, I think anyone would say the odds are astronomical.”

The interview adjusts their glasses and nods pensively. “So you’re saying this is fate?”

“I do not know if this is fate or if fate exists,” Yuzu says. “I can only confirm that Javi is the love of my life.”

“You’re very young but you say that with so much conviction.”

“Because I know myself better than anyone else.”

“That is true,” the interview concedes. “No one knows us better than we know ourselves. Only time will tell. But from me I offer you my belated congratulations.”

Yuzu bows in gratitude at their words, seemingly genuine at least. 

He flies home after with the weight he’d been carrying for months lifted off his chest. Javi greets him at arrivals and maybe it’s undignified but he practically forces his way through the crowds and runs into Javi’s arms.

Javi’s laugh in his ear sounds like music.

And a week later when they’re all supposed to be focused on drilling their jumps Sara takes the opportunity to pull Javi aside. It’s a hushed conversation, Sara with her waving arms and her watery eyes and Javi standing there nodding slowly in understanding. Yuzu bites his lip scared and worried because what if Sara leaves? Before his emotions get too ramped up Sara stops, having said her piece, and it’s with relief that Yuzu watches Javi open his arms to her, inviting her in for a comforting hug. Her smile is grateful, and she slides into them.

He wipes at his eyes quickly before anyone sees. Happy tears of course, that Javi didn’t lose one of his closest friends over Yuzu.

Juan skids to a stop next to Yuzu, draping an arm around his shoulder. “Aww, Yuzu,” he teases. “Do you need a hug too?

Yuzu half-heartedly pushes Juan away. “Go away, Diaz. You are so annoying.”

Juan does indeed skate back a few steps, but he does so with open arms. “C’mon, Yuzu,” he urges.

Yuzu sighs exasperated but well… he does kind of want that hug. A hug actually sounds really, really nice. So he skates forward until he’s close enough for Juan to wrap his arms around him. It’s nice. Juan’s hugs are always warm and kind, comforting and soothing.

“Knew you couldn’t resist.”

He groans and starts to push away, but Juan only grins and tightens his hold, “Kidding! Kidding!” he insists until Yuzu stops fighting.

They spin around a bit just for the hell of it until Javi spots them and the lack of work they’re completing and frowns deeply at them. Sheepish at being caught not drilling their jumps, they pull apart and start again, Juan on that quad lutz, Yuzu on that axel until Javi yells at him to stop before he breaks his neck.

\----

Next Worlds Juan wins again, fairly this time, and Yuzu can only bow down to the champion. Maybe he cried about it a little afterwards when they were finally alone, but Javi had cupped his face in his warm hands, wiping away stray tears with his thumbs, murmuring sweet words to him -- you were beautiful Yuzu, breathtaking, _my_ number one -- until he felt that well… being Javi’s number one was better than being world champion anyway.

The Worlds after that, he reclaims his title and it’s bittersweet but Juan doesn’t mind handing him the title back. He celebrated with Javi afterwards wearing nothing but the medal and still those same words. Beautiful. Breathtaking. _Still my number one._

Olympic season and Yuzu is untouchable when he lands that quad axel, the first person to ever do so. There’d been a roar in the stadium rink after the first one he’d landed. Come the actual games they couldn’t take that gold out of his fingers. With that quad axel Juan doesn’t mind settling for silver.

No one stays at the top forever. Inevitably new blood comes in and they try for that quad axel too now that they know it’s achievable. No one has the height Yuzu does save for maybe the new kid Boyang is training. Someday, maybe but he’s still too young. Still, it’s not always perfect for him either. The falls take longer to recover from. The injuries too. Some higher power may have given him stronger ankles this lifetime but time does its own damage and more and more Yuzu gets edged out of gold.

Come the next Olympic season Yuzu doesn’t know if he has the motivation, if he can be the second person to win three consecutive games but he’ll be damned if he gives up, not with Javi rooting for him. It'll glorious standing atop that podium, and when he steps back onto the ice he knows this was his last competition ever. He’ll never not love skating. He’ll never not love the ice. He’ll never not want to be on the ice, but there are other things he wants now too, other things in life he’s ready for, other challenges.

He finally understands now, decades later, why Javi had told him it was their last podium together at Pyeongchang before the ice ceremony. It was terrible timing, he had thought. He still thinks that too. But now he gets it. Because it was important he knew. Because even though it’s sad he wants -- _needs_ \-- Juan to know how much Yuzu treasures him as a friend, as a rival, and how happy he was every time they shared a podium together, shared the view together. Juan needs to know this is their last and how infinitely precious it is so he can appreciate it too, so he won’t take it for granted as another in their long line of podiums together.

He says his final goodbye at the gala, skating to Man of La Mancha as a tribute to Javi.

“What?” Javi had asked, mock outrage on his face. “Johnny Weir and Plushenko get competition programs but I, your dutiful husband and ever patient coach, only get a gala exhibition?”

Yuzu had glowered back at him, hands on his hips, not sensing the teasing tone in Javi’s voice. “I learn my lesson and I don’t make same mistake twice! I cannot skate like Javi. To win I have to skate like me!”

Maybe he’d been a bit emotional, the loss at Worlds still stinging. To add insult to injury he’d barely hung onto that bronze. Unlike Yuzu, however, Javi seems to have sensed Yuzu’s mood. Instead of getting upset he’d cradled Yuzu’s face in his hands, his thumbs smoothing along Yuzu’s jaw in a rare show of public affection at their rink.

Javi sees right through Yuzu to the core of the issue, telling Yuzu reassuringly, “You are brilliant,” while looking into Yuzu’s eyes, not willing to let Yuzu look away even when he tries. “You are going to win that third Olympic gold you so desperately want and you’re going to prove to everyone that you’re a god in figure skating.”

“But Javi-”

“No,” Javi said firmly. “No excuses.”

Javi was right. No excuses. It’ll be hard but he knows he’s more than capable of winning again. Javi never stops pushing him to greater and greater heights, never stops motivating him to do better -- _be_ better -- and so, though Javi had laughed and joked, and repeatedly told Yuzu he didn’t need to skate to Man of La Mancha to let him off the hook every time Yuzu looked silly, Yuzu was determined. Not only to thank Javi for all he has done for him but, in a way, to celebrate the man who shaped two of his lifetimes, to tell the whole world _this is the man I am still in love with_ and _I owe everything I have to him._

One last time too, he touches down on competition ice and he thanks her for taking care of him, for being kind to his ankle this time around.

Later that night, curled into Javi’s side, ear pressed against Javi’s steady heartbeat, he tells him, “I want a girl first.”

They hadn’t really talked about it, not seriously. All the same Javi kisses the top of his head and says to him, “Okay. What are we gonna call her?”

\----

She’s so perfect sleeping in his arms the first time he holds her, her tiny fingers curled around his.

“Hi, Yumi,” he says to her softly. “You’re so beautiful, aren’t you? You’re so perfect.”

\----

Two years after Yumi and Javi is staring at his son. “Brian’s so tiny, Yuzu,” he coos. “Was Yumi ever this small?”

\----

All of a sudden there’s music streaming out of the new wireless speaker system Yuzu had wheedled Javi into agreeing to buy and installed around the house. _State of the art,_ he’d said with pleading eyes even though they didn’t really need it, and Javi gave in like he always does.

He smiles to himself, amused that still, after three months, Yuzu forgets to tell Siri which rooms and which speakers to turn on for his music. Instead, more often than not, his music blasts through the whole house. Pop isn’t so bad. Or when Yuzu’s in the mood for classical. Classical is good, soothing. It’s the rock music with it’s slamming guitars and pulsing drums suddenly switching on that gives Javi’s poor heart a swift kick and jolt. Thankfully this time it's pop music, something old that makes them both feel younger again.

He pockets his phone as he stands up and goes searching. “Yuzu,” he calls out but the music drowns his voice.

Javi finds him in the bedroom tidying up a little. Yuzu is beautiful like this: unaware, unabash, body subconsciously moving to the rhythm of the music, dancing almost, head swaying from side to side. Javi takes a moment to observe quietly from the doorway, braced on the frame, and something inside of him warms when Yuzu starts mouthing silently along with the lyrics -- if we survive the storming and we’re alive by morning; we’ll never be the same, I’ll never be the same -- because even in this lifetime some remnant from before means Yuzu refuses to sing in the presence of anyone.

He could stand there and watch Yuzu forever but watching is for everyone else. He is Javier Fernandez and he gets to-

Javi sidles up beside Yuzu, slipping a hand onto the small of his back, nuzzling into the side of Yuzu's neck and placing a kiss there. Yuzu shudders, half his face scrunching, shoulder bunching up to his ear.

“Tickles,” he complains, a hand coming up to paw at Javi's unshaven face but still he leans into Javi. “Hi, Javi,” he says with a twist and a peck to Javi’s mouth.

“Hi, Yuzu,” he echoes, contentment and peace radiating from him. “What are we doing today?”

\----

It’s one of those exceedingly rare times he’s awake and Yuzu isn’t, especially these days. He doesn’t know how many he has left but he knows they’ve dwindled down to almost nothing. There’s almost a century long ache in his bones, in his soul, and he’s so tired. He’s so tired but he’s held it off for so long.

One more day.

_One more,_ _for Yuzu._

He takes a moment to watch Yuzu sleep, to feel the rise and fall of his chest pressed against his side, to take in the lines on Yuzu’s face. Crows feet at the corner of his eyes, formed by years of laughter. They’re deeper now, significantly more noticeable. And the lines around his mouth, another sign of a life well lived. And the gray at his temples. Still beautiful. Still more beautiful than anyone Javi has seen. He would look refined if not for the scrunch in his nose, and it makes Javi wonder what kind of dream he must be having to be making that face.

The shake of his laugh wakes Yuzu.

“What’s so funny?” Yuzu grumbles at him.

“You,” he croaks out, this throat parched. Yuzu, always so tentative to his needs, leans back, reaches for the water behind him, straw sticking out from the top, and holds it in place for Javi to sip slowly.

“Yuzu,” he begins when Yuzu has settled back against his side. “Mi amor, you’re not taking care of yourself. You’re not eating,” he presses on but it means nothing with his voice so weak.

“I’m fine.”

A blatant lie. Yuzu is thinner now. Skin sallow and all bones. Even more than when he’d been a teenager and not enough calories could fill his needs. He knows what Yuzu is doing, and Yuzu knows that he knows. There’s no need to say it out loud.

It takes every ounce of his energy to brush the bangs out of Yuzu’s eyes, and another bout of sadness blooms in him to see them fill with tears. “I want you to live.”

Yuzu peers up at him, and the stubbornness sets into his face. “What do I always say?”

A sigh. “Wherever I am, you go.”

His face softens again, and he lays it back down on Javi’s shoulder. “I’m ready, Javi,” Yuzu says so low it’s almost a whisper, and the sad part is that Javi hears the truth in that.

“You’ve got so much life left in you, and the children too. Our grandchildren? They will miss you terribly.”

“And you. I will never stop missing you.” Wetness seeps into his shirt, warm against his skin. “I love you so much, Javi, and I- I-” _can’t do it without you._ The words are caught in his throat.

“It’s okay,” he reassures with a kiss to the top of Yuzu’s head.

An echo from years past chokes out, filled with unending sadness. “Life is so long, and our time was so short.” 

It was short, wasn’t it? Decades together and still not enough. Never will be enough. He crumbles and gives in, an _okay_ whispered into the air between them like a secret. But then he always does, doesn’t he?

“I love you, Yuzuru.”

The tiredness claws at him, exacerbated by the emotional toll of their conversation.

“I love you too, Javi,” he hears because Yuzu never misses an opportunity to say it these days. “Rest,” and Javi nods gently at that. “I see you when you wake up.”

“Okay,” he manages to say back before sleep claims him. “I’ll see you when I wake up.”

But he doesn’t wake up again.

Yuzu hears it, the slow, slow, slow thumps of Javi’s heartbeats, getting slower each time. It’s so weak now, and as he falls asleep they’re only getting weaker. Yuzu is hopeful, keeps his ear pressed against Javi’s shoulder, curled into his side, willing for the next beat to come with tears spilling from his eyes, holds his breath until the next one comes.

_One more,_ he begs. He’s always begging these days. _Please. Stay._

He’s granted one more. And then another. He counts them, gets close to ten thousand, and then nothing. One last shuddering breath, and then Javi stops.

The first hour, maybe two, three? What does it matter anymore? He cries, and he cries, and he cries until he can’t anymore. He lies next to Javi still, blank, and cold, and numb.

Dinnertime and Yumi comes. She always brings dinner hoping that today will be the day her dad eats. She enters the room, and knows what has happened immediately. She’d mentally and emotionally prepared herself for this. They all knew it was coming, had been coming for months now, but still it hits like a freight train.

“Dad,” she says to Yuzu in japanese, a hand on his shoulder, trying to sound strong because _someone_ has to be. “It’s time to let go.”

He nods slowly, barely, just enough to acknowledge her but says softly, “Just one more minute.”

“Okay,” she relents, because she’s Javi’s daughter through and through.

She lets him have one more minute. And then another. And another. Another, long after the sun has set. She watches her dad silently cry and cry and cry long after the tears have dried tracks onto his face with nothing else to give. In between she shed her own tears because her dad is dead and the other is dying. They love so much. Too much, maybe, gathered from all her memories of them. Her friends thought her fathers sweet after so many years together and still they look at each other like… like the world began and ended with them. It seemed like they never felt it was enough though, always so willing to bleed one more drop, so entwined together. ( _“Red thread. In Japan, the belief is that soul-mates are tied together by red thread.”)_

When Yuzu finally passes out from exhaustion she finally calls Brian, tells him, “Dad passed,” because _died_ was too hard to say out loud. Together they gingerly pull one dad away from the other, slow and gentle enough not to wake him, and then her brother carries him down to the guest room, so light he almost feels like nothing. Even in his sleep he looks like he’s crying.

It’s not too long after that – a week, give or take a day or two, everything blurs together – and Yuzu goes too.

The headlines read:

_Figure Skating Legend (and Debated GOAT) Yuzuru Minami Follows Husband, Historic Spanish Skater Javier Fernandez, Passes From Heart Failure_

Or some iteration thereof. Yumi doesn't read any of them. Neither does Brian. What do they know anyway? Nothing, that’s what. Always so quick before to whisper, to say, "No one knows for sure when their coach and pupil relationship turned more… _romantic_ , shall we say [...]"

Like her dad said time and time again. They don't matter. As long as their family knows the truth then that's enough.

God, she misses them terribly most days but she keeps herself busy, keeps herself sane with running the rink they left behind for her and Brian to take care of.

\----

There’s an ice rink next to the park near their new house, and now that winter has settled in his mother lets him go to practice as long as he finishes his homework on time. Spain is not home – _Sendai_ – per se, but home feels a lot closer when he’s on the ice.

And every day that he walks through the park he sees the same boy, a little older maybe, running around, playing with his friends, speaking a language Yuzu can understand more than he can speak but will be able to soon, his mother says, as long as he keeps trying. It’s so hard though. The other kids in class… sometimes they laugh at him when he can’t roll his R’s properly, or they keep telling him he’s saying it wrong, saying it _weird._ It’s embarrassing, makes him want to curl into himself and never come out.

Today too, Yuzu tracks him. Dark curls and warm brown eyes. He moves like sunshine and Yuzu is enraptured. He wants to approach, and for the first time wants to say to someone _hi, please be my friend_ in terribly accented Spanish but is too shy to do so because… because…what if the boy and his friends laugh at him like his classmates?

_Tomorrow,_ he thinks, tearing himself away sadly before heading towards the rink. Yumi is expecting him today, his mother having phoned her to make sure she had room in her lessons today before he left and he doesn’t want to make her feel worried by taking too long. It’s rude to make other people wait, after all.

There’s commotion behind him, shouts and screams, the quick pattering of light feet running atop pavement, and then a pair of shoes next to his, falling in tandem with him. He turns to look, stunned to see familiar dark curls, brown eyes, bright toothy grin he never thought would be directed at him. He says something to Yuzu too quickly Yuzu can’t understand properly, pointing at the rolling suitcase Yuzu is transporting his skates in at the tail end of it.

Confusion, and then it dawns on him. The boy points to himself, introduces himself slowly, tells Yuzu, “My name is Javi.”

His heart is _pat-pat-pat_ pattering away in his chest a mile a minute. Shyly, he whispers back, “My name is Yuzu.”

\----

_Take off. Please take off,_ he prays desperately, eyes clenched shut. The longer they stay grounded the more likely he’ll be found. He’d snuck in earlier when no one had been looking, too busy wheeling things in or trying to start the ship, a ratty, tatty piece of thing held together by sheer force of will, the name Effie scrawled down the side of it.

He was being tracked somehow, and after days and days of being on the run alone, thirsty and hungry and delirious, the conclusion he’d come to was that the new regime was tracking his ship somehow. They must have hacked the mainframe.

“Scott!” he hears from the other end of the cargo bay. “We ready?”

Oh thank the gods. They were just about ready to close the hatch and then he’d be safe, at least until they dock wherever they were going anyway. But then-

He peeks around the metal container he’d hidden himself behind earlier.

No. _No._

Low, gravely, “Looking for a stowaway,” the men who’d been chasing him for days now say. He swiftly hides himself again and prays. Then commotion, grunting, fists meeting flesh. A fight and it’s about to turn ugly. He can hear three, four, six plasma guns firing up, ready to kill.

“I don’t think so. Step. Back.”

“You’re making a big mistake,” one of the men say.

“There is no stowaway,” presumably the captain says. “We do, however, transport _goods_ for Madame Jade. I’m sure she’d love to hear how you’re putting us behind schedule and jeopardizing her goods while you're at it.”

The name is enough to scare them and they back away.

Once they’re finally in the air Yuzu can breathe again, but only for a moment because the next second a plasma gun is pointing at him. “So, who the hell are you?”

“Yuzu,” he says, honest and terrified.

“Are you who they were looking for?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He keeps his lips zipped tight. He can’t trust anyone right now with his secret. But he’s desperate. They’re still planetside and they could turn around and re-dock, and then where would Yuzu be? Dead like the rest of his family. 

“Please,” he begs, and tears are welling up in his eyes.

The man sighs and lowers his gun. He offers Yuzu a hand, and Yuzu takes it gingerly, still doubtful but using the help to stand.

The man -- call me _Javi_ \-- captain, lets him join his crew. Tessa loves him immediately and dotes on him. Scott is fond, and maybe a little weak against Yuzu. Yuzu tries not to take advantage but it’s his upbringing. It makes him so clueless sometimes. He doesn’t know how to do _anything._

Patrick intensely dislikes him. Eyes with him suspicion, and sometimes it borders on outright hatred. He overhears sometimes, things he’s not supposed to.

“We don’t even know him, Javi.”

“He’s just a kid,” Javi offers up nonchalantly.

“Exactly. A kid with people chasing after him. Which means they’re chasing after us now. This is all bad news. He jeopardizes every job we do.”

“What do you want me to do? Toss him on some outer ring planet?”

Patrick remains silent but it isn’t a no.  
  
“Who’s captain?”

A sigh. “You are.”

“You trust me?”

“Always.”

“So trust me on this.”

Silence, and then angry footsteps along the catwalk.

“You can come out now,” Javi says, so Yuzu does, eyes downcast. Javi places a warm hand along the side of his neck, thumb smoothing his cheekbone once. “Don’t worry about him. He’s a worrier. And an asshole,” Javi tacks on just to get Yuzu to smile.

He gets… he gets okay at things. He learns to cook pretty okay according to Patrick's incredibly high standards, after the first few disastrous weeks. Javi had told him he didn’t need to, not understanding that Yuzu wanted to be useful, _needed it._ And he abhors the sting of defeat.

“Oh praise the lords,” Scott murmurs one day after his first bite.

Yuzu perks at that. “It’s okay?”

“Delicious,” Javi confirms after his own.

“It’s okay,” Patrick tosses in begrudgingly. “Don’t be too proud of yourself, twerp. Could be a fluke.”

Patrick’s sourness can’t drag him down. Yuzu is so happy he could burst.

Along the way they pick up Shoma, a quiet kid who didn’t speak much, but they needed a doctor on board and Shoma needed to disappear too. Most days he helps Yuzu in the kitchen.

It’s a good life. Maybe not quite a quiet one, near misses from enemies and evading the federation police force, and that one time Javi had been shot in the stomach and Yuzu cried and cried thinking Javi wasn’t going to make it while Shoma extracted the bullet. _Bullet._ Stupid dumb people and their stupid primitive antiques, Shoma had grumbled the whole time through. At least have the courtesy to kill a man instantly.

But the past has a way of catching up to everyone, and his own was long past due.

In the end it’s Shoma who reveals his secret. All these years, near a decade, and he'd almost forgotten. They’re on Alpha-Core 6, the rest dropping off a delivery. He’s at the market in the meantime, picking up some groceries when he realizes he’s being followed. A little shorter than him. Skinny. Narrow face with black curly hair. He turns a corner, just to be sure, walks a few paces ahead, and sure enough. He breaks out into a run.

“Javi!” He shouts into his comm. “Help!”

“Yuzu?! Where are you?!”

He wasn’t watching. Someone bumps into him causing his communicator to fly out of his hand. He scrambles for it but it’s too late. He can’t stay, can’t look for where it had skittered to. He forges on. Shoma ahead of him feels like salvation.

“Shoma!” he cries in relief.

It all comes to a head there. Shoma, discreetly revealing their location. Scott, Tessa and Patrick, frantically behind Javi with guns drawn. And Javi, out of breath and eyes wild with fear. Warm hands grip the sides of his neck forcing his head from left to right and then back again, quickly examining him for signs of a wound.

“Let me look at you. You okay?” Javi asks. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Yuzu throws his arms over Javi’s shoulder, tugs him in for a hug. He’d been so scared. Not of dying, he realizes now. He’d been so scared he’d never see Javi again.

Suddenly, the whir of plasma guns, and they’re surrounded, circled in.

“Sir,” the man who’d been chasing him says, addressing Shoma.

“Shoma?” The betrayal cuts him to the core. Shoma is his friend, someone he trusted as much as he trusts Javi.

“Tessa, Scott, Patrick,” Shoma says, addresses them each separately with a curt nod. “Please put the guns down.”

Tessa says, “No fucking way,” and tightens her finger on the trigger.

The man who had been chasing him moves in front of Shoma, shielding him from them. Shoma sighs silently through his nose, placing a hand on his shoulder after, and says, “Nathan, stand down.” A silent conversation between the two of them none of them are privy to in the lines of their bodies, and then with a wave of his hand the rest of the men lower their weapons. After, he gets down on one knee, his men following his example, and bows to Yuzuru while everyone else gapes in shock.

“Your highness,” he says. “We have come to take you home.”

“What?” Disbelief, his voice pitched high.

“I am Shoma Uno, first son of the Uno family. All these years the other families and I have worked tirelessly to overthrow the usurper. Now that we have achieved this and you are no longer threatened, it is time you return home and take your rightful throne. The people, they need you.”

“But I-”

That’s not me anymore, he wants to say. I have a different life now. I have Tessa. And Scott. And even Patrick too, now that he’s come around. And Javi. _Javi._

Javi, who’s looking at him like he’s a completely different person.

“I’m still me!” he wants to say, wants to insist. “I haven’t changed!”

In the end Javi escorts him home because… because his people need him, and after all their suffering -- he’d heard from Shoma -- they needed hope. The last few days on the ship are quiet, lonely. And Javi doesn’t touch him anymore.

At his coronation Javi is with the crowd kneeling and bowing like everyone else and Yuzu wants to tell him, “No, you should stand by side,” but he doesn’t want to force Javi to stay.

“Your grace,” Javi says the next time they meet again, keeping cordial, a cool distance between them. Yuzu crumbles at that, and Javi breaks when he sees, placing his palm against the side of Yuzu’s neck, a habit Yuzu never wants him to break, thumb smoothing along his bottom lip.

“You’re gonna be a great king.” And then, “Even if I’m not by your side I’ll always support you, Yuzu. I love you,” and he lets go.

Yuzu has known, has felt it for years now, has wanted to hear Javi say it first but doesn’t want it like this. He hears it for what it truly is. _Good-bye._ Not an _I’ll see you later_ but an actual farewell, a _we may never meet again._

He grips Javi’s shoulders before he can escape, and maybe it’s cheating a little -- Javi always accused him of it at least -- but he can’t stop the tears. “Please stay,” he begs, breaking down his earlier resolve. He _is_ selfish after all. “Please stay with me.”

“You know I can’t,” Javi says sadly, and then holds Yuzu in his arms as he chokes on sobs, sad little hiccups coming and going. “Yuzu, you’re so good and I’m just me.”

In the morning when he wakes up it feels like he’s died a hundred times over. He holds himself together, head held high, poised and elegant. Royal. He opens the doors to his quarters, ready to exit and trek across to the bathing area but stops, breathes out, “Javi.”

“Hey.”

“You’re still here?” He can hardly believe his eyes.

“I’m still here,” Javi confirms.

“Are you-” he stutters a little, scared of another rejection. “Are you staying?”

Javi smiles at him. “Yeah, Yuzu. I’m staying.”

“Why did you change your mind?”

Javi outright laughs. “Tessa. She broke down all my arguments and told me I was being stupid. And she also- she told me I’m exactly good enough to have you. Not sure I completely believe her but… if you’ll have me...”

Yuzu squeals and jumps into Javi’s arms, so happy and petal-light he could float away. “Yes,” he nods happily into Javi’s shoulder. “Yes, you are exactly good enough to have me, Javi.”

Later, fingers twined in bed, Javi kisses the back of his hand and tells him how he was gonna leave Patrick his ship but he was being a dick so he gave his ship to Tessa instead.

“You made the right call,” he laughs out. “Patrick would have been terrible.”

\----

They found each other when they were young, in the old decrepit slums of Alpha-Core 6, abandoned. Well, if asked to be more precise he’d say that Javi found him when they were young, a month or more, he wasn’t sure anymore, after he’d been abandoned in the slums of Alpha-Core 6, essentially left for dead. He’d been unlucky and got caught stealing, and they had beaten him to almost an inch of his life.

Some time later, like sunshine hitting his face, Javi had found him. He thought it a dream at first, what with his lip bleeding, his head pounding, his eyes so swollen he could barely see through them.

Javi’s kind voice had asked him, “Are you okay?” and for the first time since he’d been left behind he cried. He curled up into a ball, hugged his knees to his chest, and let the sobs come out. A month, maybe more, and not a single other soul had asked him if he was okay.

He’d been shooed and spit at. He’d been hit and beaten, a slap to the face, a punch to his stomach. He’d been tossed and thrown away, and no one bothered to give him a single glance even though he’d been alone.

And Javi, sweet, kind, impossible Javi who couldn’t have been much older than him, had asked him if he was okay. Javi tenderly patted his head, making sure not to touch too hard in case he hurt Yuzu more, cooed softly at him saying, “It’s okay. It’ll be okay,” even though it probably won’t be had only made him cry harder.

After, Javi asked him, “What happened?” and so he told Javi the truth. He was hungry. He was so hungry and he just wanted something to eat. He took something called an apple, just a small tiny one, but the store-owner had noticed. He couldn’t get away.

“Oh.” Javi frowned. “Apples are expensive,” and explained, after seeing Yuzu’s confused face. They didn’t have anything like apples where he grew up. All the protein and nutritional bars had been imported in and then rationed out. “Fresh. Fresh food is expensive. My mom gets me one sometimes,” he says, “as a treat when I’m good.” He rummages his sack and pulls out the one he has. He offers it to Yuzu.

“For me?” Tears well up in his eyes again.

Javi nodded. “You’re hungry and I’m not right now. Mom says we should always share even if we only have a little.”

Through tears he ate his apple, tucked against Javi’s side, his head resting on Javi’s shoulder.

A year or two later there was a mining accident, he’d heard rumblings of it through the market the day it happened and before he even saw Javi he knew. He ran as fast as he could, dropping behind what very little he was able to steal that day, and when he found Javi…

When he found Javi his heart broke and when he wrapped himself around Javi he vowed he was going to take care of Javi forever.

Together they clawed their way up and out. The work they fell into, it’s not glamorous. And they’re by no means good people. Good people don’t go around killing other people for money. Javi carries the guilt with him, constantly asking himself what his parents would think if they were alive. His mother would be so disappointed.

But there’s nothing to be disappointed about. This is what the world made them into. Or _him_ at least, a cold-blooded, heartless, methodical killer. Javi is better than him, has always been, and in their world, Javi is the closest to good anyone could be. Sometimes he thinks Javi is too kind for their line of work and maybe, maybe if he didn’t have Yuzu he’d be dead already. If he was truthful with himself though, if he didn’t have Yuzu, he wouldn’t be doing this at all.

Yuzu refuses to feel guilty. He never runs out of food anymore. And he doesn’t run out of water either. He has warm clothes for the winter when the temperature drops below freezing and the sun never reaches them. He has clothes for the summer too, when the heat is sweltering, and there’s no wind. He has a place to call his own, no matter how tiny it may be.  
  
Some days no matter how much he eats he can’t get full, remnants of childhood memories and trauma, he knows now, but it’s a stark reminder for why he keeps doing what he does. They work together or not at all, and split all the profits in half. It wouldn’t have mattered for him either way but it’s important for Javi because Javi is different. Yuzu shares with no one else but Javi.

Javi, on the other hand, is still kind, and he’s still sweet. He spends all his money, saves nothing for himself, and he walks the slums where he grew up at night, and he feeds the hungry children there, as many as he can at least. There are always too many, but by the gods does he try. He brings them blankets when it’s cold, and he brings them newer clothes when they have nothing left but rags. He takes care of them and had told Yuzu once, when he’d asked, “They’re all little Yuzus.”

It’s stupid that Javi is determined to prove one person can change the world.

He comes back when the sun starts peeking over the horizon. He crawls into bed with Yuzu, and Yuzu scrunches his nose in disgust. “You stink.”

“But you love me anyway,” Javi says, nuzzling into his neck.

Yuzu groans. “Ugh, get away from me. I hate you.”

“Do you?”

He opens his eyes at that, sees Javi’s crestfallen face. Gods, he’s being played but he’s such a sucker for Javi.

“C’mere,” he says, and tugs Javi close again. “I always love you with my whole heart.”

Javi smiles into him, pecks his mouth. “I got you a present.”

“Oh?” He loves presents.

Javi rummages in his rucksack and then pulls out an apple, offering it to Yuzu. “For you.”

Yuzu loves apples too. Apples are his favorite. And Javi. Yuzu loves Javi so much it might just be the death of him.

\----

If it wouldn’t have upset Javi so much Yuzu would have probably scratched Patrick’s ugly, mean face by now. Not only does he consistently interrupt and end Javi’s and Yuzu’s cuddling time, he is always so mean to Junhwan, Yuzu’s human, who is nothing but cute and warm and loving.

Patrick is just jealous, Yuzu knows, because Javi likes Yuzu more than him, and everyone likes Junhwan as helmsman more than they like Patrick because Junhwan is actually nice and cute, just like Yuzu, and Patrick is just old and petty and _mean_ and thinks he’s so much better than everyone else.

Javi whimpers on the ground, one golden paw over the long bridge of his nose while Patrick chastises him, telling him once again to “not play with that cat. That cat is no good for you.”

Yuzu hisses and yowls at him because how dare he make Javi feel sad and Patrick glares right back at him, neither of them willing to back down. Screw it, Javi will forgive him. Yuzu makes to leap for Patrick’s face, claws at the ready. Just one scratch. Just one, please! But Junhwan catches him, knows him too well by now, holds onto him tight, traps Yuzu against his chest.

“It’s okay, Yuzu,” Junhwan says to him, mumbling it into the fur at Yuzu’s collar. “You’re a good cat, right? A really good one. The bestest one.” Junhwan starts petting him, scratching the back of his ear, under his chin, his tummy, and damn him, he knows Yuzu’s weak spots. Yuzu starts purring, leaning into Junhwan’s touch, and watches Javi sadly, resigned as he is carried away towards the turbolift.

He gives one final sad meow, one outreach paw to Javi in goodbye as the door starts closing but then-

Then the door whooshes open again! A last minute passenger jumping in, and with Junhwan’s guard down, his hold loosened after the door started closing, Yuzu breaks free just in the nick of time.

“Yuzu!” Junhwan shouts after him but he’s too late. The door swishes shut and it’ll take some time before Junhwan can come back. Sorry Jun, he thinks. He really, really likes Junhwan but he loves loves _loves_ Javi.

The instant he’s with Javi again he starts mewling and nuzzling his neck, happy to be reunited. Already Patrick is out to ruin their time, reaching out to grab Yuzu by the scruff to yank him away. Yuzu fights back, won’t let Patrick take a proper hold, swiping at the hand every time it comes closer.

Patrick hisses the one time Yuzu gets him and Javi whimpers, saddened by Yuzu and his owner fighting yet again.

“Sorry, sorry,” Yuzu says, licking Javi’s fur in apology. Javi licks him back to say, “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“Can we go?” he urges with headbutts while Patrick is still distracted with the wound Yuzu dealt him. “I want to be with Javi.”

Javi looks torn for a moment, glancing between Yuzu and Patrick and then back to Yuzu again. “Okay,” he says with a soft bark, agreeing. “Let’s find somewhere super secret.”

Yuzu knows just the place. Together they run through the halls of the ship, ignoring Patrick’s indignant shouts behind them. They turn, and turn, and turn, running between people and under things until Patrick has been lost, and then Yuzu leads Javi into his super secret place. It’s deep in the ship where there’s a low hum and a heat that lulls him to sleep. Best of all it seems only one person works down here. He crawls into a space just big enough for him and Javi, and beckons for Javi to join him. When Javi looks uncertain, Yuzu beckons again, encouraging Javi with a paw on Javi’s own, and Javi follows. He squeezes until they’re mostly hidden from view, and Yuzu curls into Javi’s warmth.

“This is nice,” he purrs into Javi’s long, golden fur. Javi agrees, his tail swishing back and forth with happiness.

\----

A rasp of air into his ear and he twitches, body starting to wake. No… _no._ He wants to stay. Just a little longer.

A whisper follows. “Yuzu,” he hears but it’s still far off, distant, like an echo buried under water.

A teasing, drawn out, “Cariño…”

Another breath, another endearment, closer this time. “Mi corazon…”

The hand on his waist tightens, a kiss behind his ear. “Amor de mi vida.”

Words he found and gave to Javi now are being used against him because Javi knows how weak he gets when Javi speaks them. He whines, high pitched and drawn out, a pout almost, “Javi, no,” but it’s too late. He can’t hold onto the dream any longer. He sighs, disappointed, but at least there is Javi’s mouth trailing down his neck as consolation, each touch so light it electrifies him.

Fingers skim down his bare stomach, fingertips tickling skin on their way down. Javi grabs a hold of him when he reaches his destination, starts pumping him leisurely.

“Good dream?” Javi chuckles.

Yuzuru hums a confirmation. “Good dream,” he echoes.

Javi perks at that, Yuzuru feels it in his soul even if he can’t see. Smugly, he lets out, “Oh? Am I better than your dreams?”

He rolls his eyes even if he can’t help the grin. He slaps Javi’s wrist but Javi only laughs. He moves on, fingers grazing along Yuzuru’s hips, down to his cheeks, parting them just enough that he can slide a finger in. Javi’s come is still there from the night before. Yuzuru relishes the feel of it, eyes closed, soaking in the soft burn and pleasure. He slips into a daze, warmed by the haze of late morning light streaming in through their floor to ceiling windows.

He breathes out a sigh. “Please.”

“Answer the question, Yuzu.”

_“Javi.”_ A warning but it fades as quick as it came when Javi penetrates him with another finger.

Javi can be so cruel sometimes.

“I can’t,” he slurred out, delirious and gone, mind lost somewhere in the abyss while his body lies on its side twitching, hole clutching onto Javi still buried in him. How many times has it been now? Five? Six? Ten? He’d lost count somewhere in the swell of one orgasm to the next, his world narrowed down to nothing more than this: Javi slick with cum inside of him, filling him up and pushing, pushing, pushing and _pushing_ Yuzuru back onto that edge where it’s not just pleasure anymore, where Yuzu feels like he really might just die, heart giving out.

“You can,” Javi said, encouraging him with a warm palm on his hip. “One more.”

_“Javi, I can’t.”_ He was wrecked, wrung out, cracked wide open. “Too much. _It’s too much.”_

“Yuzu, _please,”_ he pleaded like he’ll die if Yuzuru didn’t give this to him, and already Yuzuru felt himself giving in, crumbling. Through crescents for eyes he watched Javi brush a tiny kiss along his inner thigh, still hooked over his shoulder, felt the huff of a breath along his skin when Javi laid another down, and then another, endlessly, one after the other reverently like he was worshipping.

Everyone has it wrong. They don’t know. They don’t understand. They all think he has Javi wrapped around his finger but the truth is-

It was those eyes. It’s _always_ those damn eyes. Gentle. And kind. Soulful and deep, deep brown, so sincere too and Yuzuru was weak -- _is_ weak -- so, so, so weak against Javi when Javi turns those eyes on him, imploring, begging, pleading with Yuzu.

One sharp inhale, and then he breathed out, “okay,” slowly falling into a low cry, his voice just as raw and broken as his body when Javi slid all the way in again. Nestled together like this -- leg stretched to the limit over Javi’s shoulder, Javi hovering over him so close if he had the strength he could touch Javi’s face -- mind frayed and undone Yuzuru couldn’t do anything but lie there, couldn’t do anything but let Javi have his way as his fingers fisted the sheet, overwhelmed and overstimulated as he is with every drag along his rim.

“So good,” Javi mumbled, mouthing along the skin where shoulder and neck blur, his hips and dick slow, intentional, grounding into every part of Yuzuru like he was trying to drive Yuzuru insane. “You’re doing so good. You’re so good to me, Yuzu.”

He nodded along unable to say anything. He tries to be, he wanted to say, all the time, he really does because-

The burn was like a million sparks igniting one after the other in an imperfectly timed sequence, an echo building and building upon itself to an ending that suddenly bursted like a light bulb exploding with Yuzuru blinded, nothing but white hot in front of him. Pain, pleasure, nothing and everything, an assault on his senses forcing Yuzuru’s body to clench so tight Yuzuru didn’t think he’d ever uncoil again. Vaguely he heard Javi’s loud groan when he emptied inside as Yuzuru came to gasping for air, his body wrung out, overly sensitive even to the kisses Javi was placing along his shoulder.

"I can't," Yuzuru pleaded, meant it this time. "I _can't."_

Javi hushed him quietly, wiped away the tears Yuzu hadn’t realized had accumulated at the corners of his eyes gently. “I know,” he said soothingly. “I know. Thank you. You did so good for me. Let me take care of you now, okay?”

Yuzuru nodded silently and curled into Javi’s chest when Javi picked him up, carrying him to the bathroom. He laid Yuzuru into the tub carefully, gently, like Yuzuru was precious, and instructed the water to run body temperature. Yuzuru sank into it, his head supported by the rest at the end, lolling towards Javi, watching as Javi lovingly started cleaning him. One arm to his chest, down his stomach and back up to the other and then his legs, his thighs next, and then deeper, just the surface, not fully penetrating because Yuzuru likes to keep Javi in him as long as possible. This too, it was like Javi never ceases worshipping him.

Yuzuru’s wet hand reached up to push back some of Javi’s curls, fingers carding through thick, dark curls so he could see Javi’s eyes better.

“You’re so good to me,” he murmured.

Javi’s grin was blinding like that was all he wanted to be: good to Yuzuru. “I try,” he said, taking a hold of Yuzuru’s hand and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the palm. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he sighed out. “I love you so much.”

“Me too,” Javi echoed, planting another kiss along Yuzuru’s lifelines. “I love you so _so_ much.”

“Tell me again,” Javi asks calmly, barely out of breath. “Tell me I’m better than your dreams.”

“Yes,” Yuzuru chokes out finally when Javi strikes his prostate, sending sparks tingling down his spine. _“Yes.”_

Javi rewards him by sliding home in one long, smooth stroke. He huffs against the nape of Yuzuru’s neck, breathing out Yuzuru’s name reverently. His strokes are leisurely, slow, taking his time to worship Yuzuru’s body with his hands, his mouth, his entire being, focusing only on what Yuzuru wants, what he _needs._ It’s nothing like the night before when Javi had pinned him down into the mattress, hand rough against the back of his neck, and taken what he wanted from Yuzuru’s body, claiming it over and over again as his own, marking numerous places along his neck, his back. The inside of his thigh even, that third time, when he held Yuzuru open with Yuzuru’s leg over his shoulder.

Instead this is a slow build, like a wave cresting at low tide, and Yuzuru lies there completely boneless and so, so, so loved. He feels it washing off Javi in spades and revels in the fact that no one else can have this.

He repeats like a mantra, _“Javi, Javi,”_ and pleads, _“more.”_

A hand wraps around him again, working at him with swift tugs, stoking the fire. Javi’s moving a little faster now too, a little more selfishly, and it’s perfect. It’s so, so perfect. Everything he ever dreamed about.

When he crashes it’s into blissful, peaceful darkness. Eventually he finds his way back out, back home, to Javi pressed all along his back, their fingers threaded together. Javi lifts Yuzuru's hand to his mouth, places a sweet kiss on Yuzuru's ring finger, the gold band -- gold because nothing else looked as good -- he'd slipped on the day before warmed by the heat of Yuzuru's body.

“Tell me about your dream,” he says.

Yuzuru untwines their fingers so he can turn around to bury himself in Javi’s chest. He’d been so scared that first time telling Javi because how do you tell the love of your life you meet them in your dreams nearly every night?

Javi used to joke about it sometimes, teasing him when they were in the middle of yet another squabble he wasn’t taking as seriously as Yuzuru was even though he _was_ listening at least, saying to him, “But Yuzuru you dreamt me to life. You dreamt me this way.” Very blase, very much his philosophy of “Now is now and I will only live in the moment.”

Or after a nice surprise put together because Yuzuru had had a rough day, and Yuzuru couldn’t help but thank him, couldn’t help asking, “How are you even real?”

The first time it happened it didn’t even register he’d been so annoyed. The second time: “Haha Javi, you think you’re so funny.” And the third, a glower and, “Are you making fun of me?”

“Of course not, cariño,” the tone of his voice and his face telling Yuzuru that he was in fact making fun of him.

On and on it went and time and time again Yuzuru brushed it off, laughed it off, walked away like he heard nothing, pretending he was okay even though he felt more and more afraid. He couldn’t tell Javi though because… because what if it was true? What if Javi isn’t _real?_

It could only go on so long before he burst, shouting at a stunned Javi through angry tears to just-

“Shut up! _Shut! Up!_ Stop saying that!”

And oh, Javi… Hurt. Burned. Scared, a little too. Unsure. He didn’t say anything because… because Yuzu told him to shut up.

Guilt seeped in and he deflated. “I’m sorry,” he had said and meant it from his heart.

Quietly, Javi said, “I didn’t know it bothered you.”

“It really does,” he admitted softly. Javi didn’t say anything in response, just looked lost in his own thoughts for a while and Yuzuru felt terrified the whole time thinking that maybe he had ruined it all. Maybe Javi was looking for the right words to say, the right way to end things with him and oh gods he was panicking, breath coming in short little bursts before-

“Yuzu,” Javi began, the tone of his voice dipped low and serious, won’t look at him and Yuzuru’s heart is gripped tight in his throat at that. “When you don’t tell me these things I won’t know.”

Yuzu nodded, realized Javi won’t see, so he croaked out an, “I know,” the _I’m sorry_ trapped in his throat.

Solemn still, “It’s like a secret, right? Like maybe you think if you keep it to yourself then you’re safe. But you were hurting, right?”

“Yes.” Another admission, small and meek.

“It’s not like a secret, Yuzu,” Javi told him, shaking his head. “It’s really like an injury to your foot. Like it got hurt and you really need someone else to tell you to stop being stupid or you’ll make it worse. But you’re so stubborn that you tell no one and you keep going. You think you know better and it’s not that bad. Except it really _is_ that bad, and you _are_ making it worse, and maybe if you’re not lucky by the time you finally say something it’s too late.”

_Is it?_ He wanted to ask, tears welling up. Was Javi done with him?

“Next time-” he heard and clung onto that because _next time_ meant Javi was staying _,_ “-you have to tell me so I can help you. It won’t work any other way.”

“I will,” he promised, relief flooding him, and he would, he really would because he’d learned in those short few moments when Javi hadn’t spoken, couldn't look at him at all that he couldn’t do without Javi after all.

“Come here,” Javi beckoned gently, and Yuzuru practically fell into his arms. “You ready to let me in?”

Yuzuru nodded slowly, ready to tell Javi the fear that had planted itself and grown roots in his thoughts, occupying space Yuzuru didn’t want it to because he didn’t want to lose Javi over something like this. He was determined not to. If it meant opening up, being vulnerable, voicing his fears out loud to Javi then so be it. He would do whatever he needed to to stay by Javi’s side.

“Sometimes,” he began gingerly, “I think that maybe… that this is only a dream. I get so scared that you’re not real. Because of-” he stuttered and tried again. “Because of the dreams. Sometimes they feel so real… like I lived it and if those are dreams...then maybe this is a dream too.”

Javi didn’t laugh at him or called him stupid or silly. He had only held Yuzuru tighter and accepted him, “Okay,” he had said, and then calmly, “So let’s talk it through.” 

“I dreamt,” he begins, “that I was trying to fly. In my dream you had this _thing_ called the quad salchow.” The word is foreign to him, the vowel sounding all wrong. “There was this never-ending expanse of ice and when you were on it and you jumped it was like you were flying. You were so beautiful Javi,” he murmurs into Javi’s chest. “I tried too, and sometimes I could but not like you. Not as beautifully as you. I chased you and I was planning on stealing it away but you tore open your chest when I came and you broke the salchow into two halves. You kept one for yourself, and the other you said, ‘For you,’ and gave it to me.”

Javi’s chuckles into his hair. “Sounds gross,” he chimed in.

He shook his head as best he could. “No, Javi. It was beautiful. It looked like the most beautiful apple I would ever see.”

This time it’s a full blown laugh. “You _do_ weirdly love apples.”

Yuzuru nods emphatically because he does, not even sure _why_ because there are other foods that are sweeter, more filling, _better_ , but apples, he loves apples almost as much as-

_“Javi no hou ga suki da yo." I love you more,_ the shape and sound of the words remembered from his dreams.

“You better!” And then softer, only for him, _“Te amo,_ Yuzu.”

\----

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank everyone who read this until the end. It's not a very conventional love story, especially with the huge age difference so it was really important to me that the Yuzuru in this story had autonomy over pretty much his whole story with Javi. I really hope that came across well and that I was able to accomplish it.
> 
> Also, if anyone feels inspired by the Nathan/Shoma and wants to flesh out that side story? For the love of all that is holy, please, please, _please_ do it.


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